A Scattered War
by TheUnrealInsomniac
Summary: Successful campaigns cannot be fought when its leaders have different goals. Book Two of the What A Difference A Father Makes series.
1. European Summers

**Summary:** Successful campaigns cannot be fought when its leaders have different goals. Book Two of the _What A Difference A Father Makes_ series.

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 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. JK Rowling is fucking him up all on her own.

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 **A Scattered War**

Chapter One:

 **European Summers**

* * *

Harry slumped forward on the bench put aside for duellists, letting them get a ringside seat of the action. One of many perks of being a participant in the European Duelling Circuit.

Daphne winked at him as she took the steps and blew him a kiss when he grinned up at her.

He ran a hand through his hair as he watched the blonde reach the middle of the platform. Her rather concerned looking opponent only managed to grimace as Daphne smiled radiantly.

'Ladies and gentlemen! At long last we have the final for the Underage Witch's Amateur Tournament,' one of the commentators said through a Soronus charm, his faint Spanish accent not lost through the magic. 'And I've gotta admit, I wasn't expecting this sort of match up. A rookie taking on a seasoned veteran, I love when this sorta upset happens don't you Philopus?'

'I couldn't agree more Raphael,' Philopus said, his own Greek accent much more pronounced. He spoke slowly, as if considering each word to make sure he was saying what he meant. 'Especially when she's given us such a show … this newcomer has definitely been showing us just what the Brits can do. I just hope she doesn't run out of steam now she's against a previous champion. Especially when this is Gertson's final underage tournament. Sissy will want to end on a high.'

Harry snorted. Yeah, cus Gertson there was any sort of challenge to his girl. Sissel Gertson may be a previous champ but she'd had much weaker match ups than Daphne and only just won her semi-final. Daphne had all but walked her matches.

The Norwegian witch didn't appear to be missing that fact either, the sweat on her brow couldn't just be from the Spanish sun. Norwegian or not, it's not like she was wearing anything heavy.

Merlin bless the designers of battle robes. They probably hadn't made them so form fitting for the reasons Harry liked, but he considered it a happy coincidence. It certainly enhanced the parts of his girlfriend that had … ahem … grown over the summer.

The ref, a black woman with silver teeth mixed in with her normal ones, ran the girls through the usual pre match steps. Checking for enchantments and anything that might give one competitor an edge over the other. It was surprisingly exhaustive but then again, people _did_ get competitive.

The arena itself was built on Isla Torralva, halfway between Barcelona and Corsica. One of the very last all magical islands in Europe. It was mostly populated by Spanish wizarding families but it wasn't uncommon to find French, Italian or even Algerian households. Nearly all were dedicated to duelling and tourism. Most of the streets had some kind of hotel or restaurant on them.

They made a killing during the summer and mostly spent the rest of the year holding minor tournaments to tide them over. It'd be a nice place to live Harry supposed, but he'd miss the UK. Home was home.

With a shine of her silver teeth, the ref deemed both competitors clear and bid them to the starting positions. The protective wards flickered to life with a wave of the ref's wand. A rainbow of colours flashed between each of the stone pillars that marked the boundary.

Daphne stared down her opponent, the side profile of her damn impressive as she dropped into the ready stance he'd taught her at the very beginning of their lessons last school year. She'd got it damn perfect now. It was … hot.

'Looks like we're ready to go!' The Spanish commentator shouted. 'Witches and wizards young and old, I give to you your finalists! The explosive newcomer from Great Britain! The fifteen year old rookie looking to make a name for herself … Daphne Greengrass!'

The packed arena roared its approval as Daphne waved out with a stunningly beautiful smile. The blonde kept smiling as the roaring slowly dissipated.

'And her opponent, two time champion! The Valkyrie from Vestfold! The Terror of Tønsberg! Sissel Gertson!'

The crowd screamed in excitement, the blonde Scandinavian smiled tightly up at them as a chant of something in Norwegian travelled around the arena. They weren't kidding on calling her a Valkyrie. Gertson was nearly a full foot taller than Daphne and her muscled legs were clearly seen through her light brown battle robes. She had experience and pure brute strength over Daphne but she'd always been a bit arrogant when duelling underdogs.

Daphne was gonna put her on her arse.

A whistle exploded into life from the ref's wand and drew Harry's attention back to the match.

Daphne snapped off the first spell, a slippery little curse that pulled out your legs from under you.

Gertson sidestepped the spell and lashed out three quick fire curses, stunners and a Bombarda if Harry had to guess, it was hard to hear over the shouts of the crowd.

The younger witch dodged the stunners and all but batted the third spell away like an annoying insect. Ropes and ice flew from Daphne's wand and while the older witch dodged the ropes the ice caught her in the side and earned a snarl.

The Norwegian witch went on the attack, not keen to be shown up by a newbie, and started hammering Daphne with spell after spell. Her shield charm took the brunt of the damage but with each fresh blow, Daphne was pushed closer and close to the edge.

It wasn't looking good as Gertson slashed down and shattered Daphne's shield. With a hiss of pain Daphne rolled out of the follow up spell and cast more ropes at her opponent.

Caught unawares, one of Daphne's ropes wrapped around Gertson's wand arm and started to constrict so hard Gertson nearly dropped her wand, giving the Hogwarts student a chance to put some distance between them.

The ropes hit the floor just as Daphne was casting a stunner of her own and the taller blonde rebounded the curse back so fast Daphne barely had time to roll out of the way. Red light splattered against the ward and was quickly followed by another light from the other side. The rainbow hue faded away.

Daphne rolled forwards, landing on her feet and cursing after Gertson. The older witch stood her ground and dodged or blocked each bolt of magic sent her way. She was so focused on blocking Daphne's attack she didn't catch the sickly green spell that collided with the back of her skull.

A scream filled the air as Gertson tumbled forward, the wards dropping as one of the stone pillars crumbled under the body of one of the announcers.

Wizards and witches in silver masks and black robes swarmed in from above and before Harry knew what had happened Death Eaters had overrun the arena.

He vaulted up onto the platform without thinking, he had to get to Daphne, they could better defend each other if they were together. At least until help came.

Daphne turned to him as he got within talking distance. Scared eyes widened as ghostly green shone in her face. She fell and he had to slide to catch her. His arms cradled her on the stone platform.

An evil chuckle pierced his mind and Harry was back on the floor screaming and clutching at his head.

 _They will all die Harry Potter. You can do nothing to save them. You will all die._

'DAPHNE!' He screamed until his throat was raw and he desperately pulled her face up to see only vacant eyes. 'NO!'

* * *

'NO!' Harry screamed as the covers exploded away from him. 'NO!'

The door slammed open and Harry's head shot up. In the faint glow of near dawn light someone rushed through and was in front of him before he had time to put his glasses on. A shimmer of black hair filled his blurred vision as a man approached him.

Another person, blonde hair shining in the light, joined the first one.

Magic trembled in his fingers and behind his eyes as the blonde one's arms closed around him. He shook in the grip, needing to put distance between them. He couldn't stay still now. If it was someone he could trust they'd know to let go off him. Unless ...

 _Death Eaters._

Using the Death Eater's weight Harry flipped them both onto the bed.

His attacker landed flat on their back. Harry snarled as his wand thrummed in his hand … the light of his instinctive spell shining in wide blue eyes, millimetres away from the tip.

A pulse pumped against his hand, and Harry was vaguely aware that he was being pulled away from his bed by a strong grip.

'Harry!' the first Death Eater shouted, his face pale but his eyes hard. 'Stand down kid! You're safe, it was just a dream.'

Harry fought against the grip, he needed to get away. He had his wand he could …

'Harry.' The voice was warmer, calming. His hands on Harry's shaking shoulders. 'Breathe kiddo, it's alright. Deep breaths, come back. Just a dream, nobody's here who wants to hurt you.'

Sucking down air Harry held onto the man's arm in a white knuckled grip. He wasn't safe … Death Eaters were attacking the island. Everyone was dead or dying, he was alone and this one was trying to calm him down?

The man's face came into focus, piercing scared silver eyes and black hair … _Sirius_.

'I-I-,' Harry gasped out as air escaped him. 'Death Eaters. I was fighting. Here, where?'

'No Death Eaters Harry,' Sirius said soothingly, squeezing his shoulders. 'We're on the island but you weren't fighting you were sleeping.'

'Daphne …' His grip loosened, colour flooding back into his skin. His eyes stopped burning and the world went blurry again. 'She was … she …'

Sirius smiling face came into focus as his glasses were slipped onto his face, the expression strangely sad. He shifted to the side so the rest of the room was revealed. Daphne sat massaging her neck on the edge of his bed. 'She's right here.'

Her neck. Why was she rubbing her neck and where was the person who'd attacked him? He'd had them pinned and if they were attacking him Sirius wouldn't have let them out … he'd definitely felt a pulse as well so …

'Daphne.' The blonde girl looked up at him

The blonde girl approached him slowly. Her hands stretched out. As if she was holding back an animal who was about to attack. Sweet blessed Merlin … He'd attacked her. He'd nearly killed her.

And she was reaching out to him, trying to soothe him. Fucking hell.

It's okay,' Daphne rasped, her face pinched and very pale, sweat building at her hairline. 'It's okay, you didn't know what you were doing.'

He longed to cling to her, but he daren't. What if he hurt her again? His entire body was shaking as it was. He needed to not be touching her. She had to be safe, away from him. She needed to _not_ be understanding for fuck's sake!

'Daph-' he started but Daphne cut him off with a shushing sound and stroked his messy hair. She wouldn't let him go and her cold touch was burning.

'It's okay Harry,' she said softly. Her voice the same quality as Madame Pomfrey from school as she cradled him in her arms. 'You're safe, you're in your hotel room with me, Sirius and my parents. Everybody's safe and there's no danger.'

'Too close,' Harry forced out as he slowly felt the terror loosen its grip on him. 'You're too close.'

She smelled like sweat and the faintest bit of salt and it was absolutely bloody perfect. His stomach turned. She should be as far away from him as possible right now, not trying to comfort him. Daphne let him pull away and Harry went back to his bed. Sirius, who had deliberately put himself between the two teenagers, gripped Harry's shoulder and gave him a look he didn't even want to figure out.

Nick Greengrass cleared his throat and earned a nudge in his ribs from his wife.

Both Greengrasses were stood in the doorway, Sweat glistening on the pair skin the summer bedclothes showed off for them both. Sirius gave Harry's shoulder a supportive grip as he felt his face grow hot. How long had they been there? Had they seen him pin Daphne?

'You alright now kiddo?' Sirius' voice was light but it was strained. Dark hair was matted against his tanned skin. 'Just a bad dream right?'

Harry searched their faces, relieved to find no anger. Also a little sickened to see so much undeserved concern. 'Just a nightmare, nothing to worry about.' _Not like I nearly killed your daughter._

Satisfied, Sirius patted his shoulder and let out a breath no one else would have noticed.

'Well I think we should all get back to our rooms,' Nick said, more to Daphne than anyone else. His eyes kept darting between Harry and Daphne. Harry's stomach dropping lower and lower. The man was a lawyer for a reason. He must smell something was up. 'I was thinking we'd have a bit of a look around the island before the preliminaries in the afternoon.'

Daphne shot Harry a pointed look. 'Maybe I should-'

Harry shook his head slightly, just enough that Daphne could tell.

Her face fell, disappointment flooding her features before more agonising acceptance took over. She nodded once and before he could stop her, planting a brief kiss on his forehead and left the room.

She forgave him.

 _Fuck_.

Her parents watched her leave and then followed after, giving Harry a confused but kind smile as they pulled the door to.

'Want me to stay here?' Sirius muttered when it was just the two of them. 'More sleep would do you some good.'

'I'll be okay,' Harry said as he moved the covers about listlessly. 'You'll be waking me in a couple hours anyway.'

'If you're sure,' Sirius said, giving Harry's shoulder a squeeze. 'I'm right outside.'

Sirius was almost at the door when Harry slipped back under the covers. 'Don't tell Dad?'

His godfather stopped in the doorframe and for a long moment Harry wondered if he hadn't heard him. With a heavy sigh Sirius turned to face him. 'Get some sleep kiddo.'

Harry just nodded and lay back down.

It had been worth trying to keep this from his dad he supposed.

* * *

James pushed open the back door, the familiar oak panelled cloakroom from his childhood practically an oven in the summer heat.

Locking the door behind him, he hung up his cloak and stepped into the pristine kitchen. The elves must have been through already. Remus hadn't done a dish since he'd set up shop in the Potter Library.

His throat caught as his gaze fell over the kitchen table. How many summer afternoon had he spent around that table with the Marauders? Back before everything had gone wrong. The blessed peaceful days where he was just a kid and the biggest problem was getting Lily Evans to not hate his guts.

He pushed through to the dining room, a brand new slew of memories kicking him in the teeth. Christmas with his parents, spectacular dinners and hours of laughter haunted the room. That wonderful Christmas when everyone had been round the gigantic table. His parents, Lily, Sirius, the Lupins, Alastor and … Peter.

He grit his teeth and glowered at the chair the traitor had always sat in. The same chair he'd sat in when James had broken down because his parents had died in the night as they'd all slept.

James stomped on the pain, the burn of anger stoking in his chest as he tore away from the vision of Peter's hand on his shoulder.

The long wooden pine of the hall, creaked under his feet as the darkness was sprinkled with candlelight up the grand staircase.

Gripping the bannister, James made his way up the steps. The walls seemed blank with the lack of portraits. The wards around the house that spent years rebuilding itself but they hadn't gotten to the pictures of his family just yet. The original owners of the house had apparently deemed the actual house and the furniture was more important than pictures of dead people.

James had to agree. He didn't much fancy explaining to his great grandfather why he wasn't better at potions again. He'd laughed it off as a teenager but right now he'd probably tell the old man to fuck off. Which would get back to his parents once their portraits finally restored.

Merlin, he wasn't sure whether he was looking forward to that day or not. They'd get to meet their grandson at least. What they'd have to say to James himself though …

Poking his head into the drawing room at the top of the stairs, James grimaced. It was almost identical to the room he'd been sat in when Dumbledore had explained that to protect his new-born son, James would have to abandon his home to the inevitable razing at the hands of Death Eaters.

He rested his hand against the wallpaper on the landing and frowned. Another thing Dumbledore had asked him to sacrifice. At least this was something he could get back and the old man didn't ever have to know.

His parents had known Dumbledore, even bankrolled his little organisation, but Fleamont and Euphemia Potter had gotten Dumbledore's number quicker than James had.

They'd made a point of telling James that nobody outside the Potter line was ever to be told about the wards and their regenerative magic. No matter the damage, the Potter ancestral home would always rebuild itself. It'd take some time but it would _always_ come back.

'It's a family thing son,' his father's voice rang out in his head. 'Us Potters, we're too stubborn to die easy. Why would our houses be any different?'

James smiled and patted the wall fondly. 'Yeah Dad. Stubborn that's us.'

He wiped at his eyes and resisted the urge to go up the next set of stairs to the bedrooms. If Aurora was waiting to surprise him again, she might be annoyed if he didn't show up soon … but the candlelight from down the hall meant Remus had something for him.

She'd understand. Hell, she might not even be up there. It was just wishful thinking probably. If she was she'd be asleep. It was well past three in the morning.

He found the werewolf bent over a table laden up with books and scrolls. Immediately he was taken back to all the summers James had let Remus loose on the Potter library. The only difference was that his friend could actually grow facial hair now.

A discarded tea tray sat nearby, the debris of endless cups and tea bags proof that Remus was at least taking tea breaks. His parents would be relieved. Tonks too.

'Remus?' James asked.

His friend held up a finger and a smile tugged at James' face. Just like school indeed.

'Remus, I need to talk to you.'

Remus turned the page of the book he was reading, placed a bookmark in it and put it down. He looked up, brown fuzz bristling his face. 'What?'

'I assume you're not in bed again because you have something for me?' James raised an eyebrow at the scattered books. The odd title flashing out at him. _Rare Ould Magicks_ and _Potter Grimoire 1755-93_ at the top of piles level with Remus' head. 'Didn't you start with the Potter books?'

'Yeah,' Remus stretched back and scratched his chest. 'And that's why you can now pinpoint Harry no matter where he is on the globe. You know, unless they burn his clothes, snap his wand, shave his head and take his glasses.'

James dipped his head and pointed at the discarded Marauder Mirror. 'Any word from Sirius while I was away?'

'He checked in when they got to the hotel. Before then when they got to Barcelona and then before that, London. They've got there safe and sound James.' Remus stood and cracked his back, his fists pressed into his lower back. 'I still haven't figured out how to make a Portkey that'll skip past customs, and get them directly back here, from the island though. That's proving tricky.'

'They have the ones that'll get them back to London at least?' James said as he sat down in a comfy chair, one of many littered around the room. The Potter family used to be huge, it was little things like empty chairs that reminded him that if he and Harry didn't make it …

He shook the thoughts away and studied Remus' face as he grimaced at him.

'Yes James, you think Sirius would have gone without them?' Remus didn't look away from the books he was jotting down notes from. 'He's just as aware as us that he has to be on top of security. Speaking of,' Remus said abruptly as he threw rolled up parchment at him. 'That is the beginnings of a Map for this place. I figured it was worth making one for here while Sirius looked for the Hogwarts one starting September. Can't be that hard to find it now he'll be a teacher. Anyway, have a look.'

James opened the roll and raised his eyebrows in surprise. They were just rough sketches but all four floors of the manor house had been drawn up. Even the attic where the Owlery used to be. His friend must have walked through the entire house countless times. Bless his obsessive need to know every detail for an invention.

'I need to know if there's any secret ways in and out of the house, you grew up here I figured there must be a few.' Remus was back to looking through the books, one open at a chapter all about enchantments for shielding. 'We also have enough bedrooms ready that if you wanted, we could permanently move in here and not have to double up.'

James hummed. The sooner they got in here the better but they couldn't leave Potters' House visibly empty just yet. That'd cast too much suspicion on where they actually were.

Besides, the house wasn't fully up to snuff yet. The wards still needed charging, family magic still flowed through the enchantments but they were dangerously low on fuel if Voldemort found them and attacked. They wouldn't charge quickly enough with just James here anyway. Had to be Potter magic that charged the wards too. Sirius may as well be family but if you weren't a Potter by blood, your magic couldn't do shit.

And with Harry not coming back except for a couple of days before school and then Christmas … no, they'd move in only if they had to.

'No, I think some of us should still live in Staffordshire for the time being. It's well situated and besides if we moved in here en masse it'd draw more than enough suspicion from …'

He left the sentence unfinished. Saying everyone would make him look just as paranoid as they were accusing him of. He also didn't have the energy in him to argue that a certain old man couldn't be trusted with bloody anything.

His last conversation with Harry was still lingering in his brain and he wasn't going to lie, it was bugging the ever loving shit out of him. He'd been meaner to the cult members at tonight's raid than he'd needed to be. They'd just been kids after all.

It was like Harry hadn't been listening to him when he explained the _multiple_ reasons why Albus bloody Dumbledore didn't deserve to know everything they were doing.

'You know Harry's right about Dumbledore,' Remus' words were distracted but he didn't miss the edge in the werewolf's voice. 'With all the kid's going through it's a wonder he trusts anyone, and he still thinks Dumbledore is worth confiding in.'

'I'm not having this discussion again Remus,' James groaned as he fell back in his chair, hand going to his face. 'We're already half in the Order, Sirius even had to give up Grimmauld Place because no one else had anything better and …'

'And we need someone other than Aurora in the school to watch over the kids. Besides, Sirius hates that house, I doubt he cares who's using it.' Remus looked up from the books properly for the first time. 'I get why you don't want him to know everything James, I was there in the early years too. But we're at war and our biggest weapon against Voldemort right now is working with Dumbledore. You're not the only one who's tired of talking about it. You need to pull your head out of your arse. He's not done anything to show he'll fuck us over yet has he?'

'Give him time,' James said sourly. 'He's only just got the Order back together. Not to mention the Prophet and Fudge trying to discredit him, the old man's busy, he'll find time to fuck us over when he's sorted that shit out.'

Remus rolled his eyes but a bit of concern trickled through.

The mad old bastard was under stress from Fudge, the inept Minister of Magic wouldn't hear a word against his wealthy supporters and once Dumbledore had gone against James' advice and told everyone he could of Voldemort's return … well Albus had recently been stripped of the Chief Mugwump title, critics claiming his age was finally catching up with the old headmaster.

James would be lying if the retribution wasn't just a bit sweet. But Albus Dumbledore in Azkaban for treason would be seriously costly once Voldemort started making his move.

Which he hadn't done yet. Another frustrating thing for him to take in. Voldemort was either being supremely patient or his Death Eaters had gotten much better at concealing their movements in the last fourteen years.

The only person who seemed to know anything was Snape, surprise surprise, and the one Order meeting Remus and Sirius had attended at the old Black house, the Potion teacher wasn't present for. If he didn't know any better he'd be beyond suspicious of Snape. But he did know better.

James had been undercover before and as loathed as he was to admit it, he had to respect Snape's actions. It was fucking stupid, but he hadn't been rumbled yet and at the end of the day, there was no one other than Snape who Voldemort could hurt in punishment if the schoolteacher was caught.

'Look James,' Remus said with a heavy sigh. 'I get why you're so reluctant to trust Dumbledore, I really do. But he can at least move more freely than Amelia. Did she have anything to tell us tonight by the way?'

James shook his head and sighed. 'Nah, she's just running us through drill after drill. Checking the personnel files of all the new people coming in so rigorously we probably know more about some of these kids than their mothers do. If he's putting people in the DMLE he's being really fucking clever about it.'

'Joys.' Remus popped a bookmark in the text he was reading and put it down. 'Well I best go to bed I suppose, I've got to work on a new way for us to communicate if we can't use the mirrors. I'm thinking something small and ordinary, something that wouldn't stand out as valuable if we're captured.'

James nodded and stood too, knocking out the lights around the old library. More visions of time spent doing his schoolwork, Lily and him pouring over books before they'd decided to hide in Godric's Hollow … last ditch efforts in case they were found …

'James,' Remus said at his shoulder.

'Huh?'

'Come on, enough ghosts tonight, Aurora's probably still waiting up for you.' Remus clapped him on the shoulder and turned out the last light.

'Yeah,' James said absently. Trying to banish the happy smile Lily had given him when they'd figured out the ward that was meant to incinerate any intruder who crossed the threshold, but had just left their house in Godric's Hollow a ruin. 'Aurora.'

He resisted the urge to run back into the library all the way up to the master bedroom door.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm back bitches!**

 **I did say sometime in the New Year, I never specified when.**

 **So I hope you enjoyed the chapter and that this was worth the wait, I can't wait to hear what you guys think. I'm going to be trying to update on a monthly rate at least but if I can get chapters out quicker than that I will.**

 **In a bit,**

 **TUI**


	2. Islands

Chapter Two

 **Islands**

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The new day sun hung low as Harry crested the hill.

Collapsing forward, hands resting on his bare knees, Harry gulped down air and pushed his glasses away from his sweaty face.

'Told you to pace yourself kiddo,' Sirius said as the tall man came to a stop by him. His chest heaved just as heavily as Harry's, black hair tied back in a ponytail as sweat glistened on his forehead. 'Get some of that down you.'

Sirius tossed Harry a water bottle from his backpack. Harry plucked it out of the air with Chaser precision and emptied a quarter of it.

'I just wanted to see how fast I can finish the run in.' Harry wiped at his mouth with his wrist, the chilled water blissfully refreshing against his skin and down his throat. 'Went up the whole hill in what? An hour?'

Sirius wafted his sweat stained tank top and checked his watch as a pleasant blast of air smacked against Harry's arms. 'Hour and two minutes. Moody would be pleased. What'd you do it in last year? Hour twenty?'

Harry squeezed more water and swallowed it down in grateful gulps. 'Hour twenty-five.' Harry stretched back and approached the edge of the cliff, walking in exaggerated steps to fight off cramp in his legs. They felt like lead but if he didn't walk it off he'd be pissed with himself later. 'Guess Dad's training paid off more than he expected.'

Sirius nodded, slinging his bottle back into his backpack, water still dripping from his hair. 'It's to be expected kiddo, you might not have had Quidditch last year but I'd imagine the tasks had you working out just as hard. Two weeks just you and your dad as well … I almost feel sorry for the kids you'll be up against.'

He forced a smile but the mention of the tournament made his blood run cold. His nightmare still hung heavy in his mind, joining the damn near constant slew of horrors his brain was treating him to.

The only mercy was that they weren't nightly anymore. Hell, during the two weeks it had just been him and his dad in the basement of Potter Manor, he'd had dreamless nights. Last night was the first nightmare he'd had since he'd left Hogwarts.

Maybe if he knackered himself out enough through training for this tournament he'd manage it again? Yesterday had been a rare day off, he couldn't afford that. He couldn't afford any down time according to his family. Voldemort could strike any day now and he had to be prepared.

The soft sands of the beach below stretched until the horizon bled into the ground. Families would take to it in the next couple of hours. There were a few solitary figures bobbing up and down in the sea, locals probably taking advantage of the lack of tourists to enjoy their idyllic home.

The Greengrasses had still been sleeping when he and Sirius had slunk out for a morning jog. He'd wanted to do it alone, like he had every time he'd come to the island. The first run was supposed to be just his, beat the record, enjoy the sunrise before every duellist and their mothers started to have the same idea as him.

Wasn't going to happen though, not this year, not with his ever present chaperone. Sirius wasn't being a pain with it, which in itself was annoyingly out of character, but there was something patronising about his presence. Probably because it was at his dad's insistence. Harry was like glass and had to be protected like a freaking child.

James Potter knew best after all, heaven forbid Harry offer a different point of view to his stubborn as fuck father. It wasn't like it was Harry who'd had to watch one of his deepest fears come reality in front of his very eyes. Oh wait!

The sea shimmered turquoise, the magical reef that protected against incoming Muggle boats, darkening the sea as it stretched out. Harry felt some of the weight lift from his shoulders as the salt air caressed his face and made his hair dance, like Daphne's fingers were running through it.

Wide, scared blue eyes filled his vision, messy blonde hair clinging to slick skin. Harry shook his head and scowled deeply.

'Harry?'

Sirius was looking at him strangely, the same nagging concern settled behind the attempt at calm. It's how they were all looking at him nowadays. Like he was always on a hair trigger and the slightest bit of aggravation or discomfort meant he'd fall to pieces.

All of them as well. Even fucking Moody was watching him like a hawk with that expression. Moody was better at hiding it but if you knew what to look for it was obvious.

'I'm fine, just worn out from the run.' Harry looked back out over the bay but the peace was ruined. Great. 'Suppose we best get back to the suite. Nick said he wanted to walk around the island after breakfast. They'll be up by the time we get back.'

Harry went to walk down the hill but stopped when a large hand settled on his arm. 'Sit down Harry, we need to talk about that nightmare.'

Shit.

'It was nothing, just a bad dream, new place and all that.' Harry turned back around slowly, staring out at the sea and not paying attention to the highly sceptical look his godfather was giving him.

'You nearly blasted your girlfriend's head off Harry,' Sirius said calmly.

'I didn't do it on fucking purpose,' Harry shouted, twisting back towards the man. There was tightness round his eyes and mouth as his lips curled into a snarl. 'It's not like I fucking wanted to take her head off. I'm not a fucking monster Sirius, it was an accident for Merlin's sake!'

His hand burned and Harry glared venom at the irritating look of understanding on Sirius' face. He shouldn't understand, he shouldn't be calm. He'd just had the fucking balls to accuse him of meaning to attack his girlfriend.

If he had his wand he'd have cursed the prick into next week. He wanted to talk about his dad's training paying off he'd bloody well show him.

'I know Harry,' Sirius said. His hands were raised to placate him, judgement and accusation nowhere in the handsome man's face. 'But it still happened. You didn't mean it to but what if I hadn't been quick enough?'

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, dismissing the image of Daphne's lifeless body in his arms, dead eyes staring aimlessly up at him from the end of his own wand. Harry let Sirius guide him to the wooden bench set a little ways away from the cliff edge. The view was perfect from there. 'It wasn't a Voldemort dream. At least, not like the others. My scar didn't hurt.'

The dog Animagus' relief was tangible as he slumped back against the bench. He didn't say anything but Harry knew the fear that he was still getting dreams from the Dark Lord was one of the many reasons his family were so paranoid. He got that he supposed.

It wasn't like the protection his mum had given him worked anymore after all. Voldemort could touch his skin without burning like Quirrell had. Did that mean the sicko could possess him like he had apparently done to others throughout the last war?

Could he control Harry through his dreams like he had with Ginny Weasley and the diary? His emotions felt like his own but what if they weren't? The lack of Voldemort dreams might be a relief to Sirius and the others but Harry was more concerned that they'd stopped. He'd always sucked at Occlumency, what if now Voldemort had more power and a body to boot, he was possessing Harry's mind at night and learning all their secrets?

He shook his head and glowered out to the sea. No, he knew his own mind. Besides, Voldemort must have more important things to worry about that what was going on inside a teenage boy's head.

'We should still talk about it kiddo,' Sirius said, breaking him out of his thoughts. 'It might not have been a Voldemort dream but it must have been terrible if you reacted so strongly.'

Harry shrugged. 'What did Dad say when you told him?'

'Haven't told him anything yet, we're only an hour ahead here. Even your dad sleeps sometimes. I'll be checking in with him later today.' Sirius frowned over at the view himself and ran a hand through his hair, letting it flow loose of the tail. 'Were you fighting?'

'Yeah,' Harry said sullenly. It was tempting to try and make Sirius not tell his dad anything but it wouldn't be worth it. His uncles had stopped keeping things from his dad like when they had secrets when he was a kid. Captain Potter knew everything that happened with his soldiers nowadays. Didn't mean _he_ had to tell them everything. 'Death Eaters invaded a duel. I was already running when they killed … the duellists.'

Daphne's lifeless face flashed in his mind again.

'That's why you were on the attack when you woke up.' It wasn't a question. Sirius nodded once and stood from the bench. A decision made somewhere behind his silver eyes when he turned back to Harry. 'Alright then. C'mon kiddo, best we get some food in us before we go sightseeing. You might know this island back to front but I wanna check out that old castle, it looks awesome.'

Harry rose and started the slow descent down the hill with the older man. 'I'd rather just go for a swim or something.'

'You can see Daphne in a bikini later.' Sirius' smile was forced as he ruffled Harry's hair. 'The castle will be cultural. Something you could always do with more of.'

'Fine.' Harry sighed and looked back up the hill longingly. He'd rather have just been left alone.

* * *

'We've noticed that in the last month there has been a higher rate of disappearances being reported in some of the outlying villages in the Welsh valleys, nothing too alarming at this point. It's almost entirely Muggles who seem to be going missing. Most even turn up within a day or two.' John Dawlish said, addressing the gathered monthly briefing.

'Safe to say these are just hikers and campers going walkabout then?' Scrimgeour asked from the plinth next to Dawlish. The leonine man was looking more fierce than usual. Amelia must have been leaning on him some more. He didn't envy the Head Auror.

Dawlish bobbed his head side to side in an uncertain gesture that nearly every captain in the room recognised. The man didn't like to rule anything out straight away and these monthly briefings were nearly always punctuated by that gesture, especially since Dawlish had been put in charge of missing persons.

The man was a good Auror, definitely deserved his rank and responsibility, but Merlin had he got used to hearing his own voice since the first war had ended. He'd been an Auror when James joined up and he'd already established his office wide nickname. The Waffler.

'I wouldn't want to rule out the possibility it wasn't something more nefarious. Yes, it's just Muggles and they've probably just wandered past something that's turned them around but it is jumping up to once a week instead of once every month.'

'C'mon Dawl,' Robards interrupted from the centre of his circle of cronies. Most of whom were younger captains, new to the responsibility and never having known war. They didn't know the signs. 'This is stuff the Enforcers should be dealing with. It's beat work, why do we care if a few dozy Muggles go missing in the valleys?'

Dawlish glowered at the Welshman as half the room mumbled its assent. They weren't wrong to be a bit grumpy. This was normally something the Enforcers would be looking in to. Unless the missing people had been mixed up with seriously dark stuff … or were vastly important … Aurors never even got a whiff of it.

'Gawain's right John,' a young man with cropped dirt coloured hair spoke up. 'Who gives a shit if a couple of _Muggles_ go missing? We're dark wizard catchers not bloody sheepdogs, let the Enforcers deal with it. Or better yet the Muggles. They've got their own people for this shit.'

James scowled. Was this the kind of attitude you could get away with as a captain nowadays? Boy was going to get eaten alive when Voldemort finally moved out into the open. He'd partly deserve it too.

James shared a look with a grimacing captain from across the room and they shook their heads together. 'Fucking rookies' clear across every seasoned Auror's face.

Dawlish's voice was very cold as he looked down at the young man. His words cutting through the murmurs of disapproval and agreement spread throughout the room. 'Because, _Kip_ ,there's nothing to say that the Muggles haven't just been Obliviated after being put through something like those Muggles at the Quidditch World Cup last year. Also the wizard and witch who've gone missing aren't turning up.'

The room went quiet as everyone, except the large Welshman's group, leant forward.

'So what? A couple gone native in the Welsh valleys, they'll turn up after a week. Wouldn't be the first couple to fancy some woodland fun.' There was a general snicker from Gawain's group. 'Hell, I'm no stranger to that kind of romp.'

Scrimgeour scowled and motioned at Dawlish to continue. 'Gawain, do shut up. Continue Captain Dawlish, did they disappear together or are they two separate cases?'

'They did disappear together. It was a low level Ministry employee, Mrs Sharon Cole, from Magical Transportation and her husband Mr Tom Cole. He works with Gringotts as a Curse Breaker. Been married five years, live out in Cardiff. Mrs Cole is a half-blood and Mr Cole a Muggle-born. Mrs Cole's father reported them missing yesterday morning. They'd been missing two days at the time.'

'Could they have been investigating any old ruins in the area? If he's a Curse Breaker I mean,' another young captain, Preena Dipti James thought, from the back of the room asked. 'Gringotts said anything about it?'

Dawlish made the bobbing head again and the muttering started anew. 'They haven't, but you know goblins, they're cagey.'

'Was there any sign of dark magic Dawlish?' Scrimgeour asked, the room plummeting back into silence. Attention finally back where it bloody should have been.

The room was beginning to roast in the summer heat, cooling charms could only do so much against this many bodies, as Dawlish looked through his notes really quickly and with a slight shake of his head he answered. 'Nothing we've been able to uncover so far. I've got a couple of my team looking into it and they're liaising with the Enforcers and Muggle police.'

Seemingly satisfied, the newbies seemed to accept that this was just a couple who'd got caught up during a holiday and probably show up sooner or later. It wasn't like they weren't able to look after themselves. No dark magic, not their problem.

But the seasoned captains around James were wearing matching expressions. This sounded worryingly familiar and you could practically see the cogs in the Head Auror's brain going. Amelia was going to have something to chew over when Scrimgeour gave _his_ monthly report.

'Well, keep on this Dawlish, I want a fresh update from you by the end of the week. You have people down there looking right?' Scrimgeour moved to stand behind the plinth as Dawlish nodded and took his empty seat next to James. 'Good.'

'Punk kid,' Dawlish grumbled. 'Show him who's a sheepdog.'

James grunted his amusement and earned a half-smile from the other man.

'All right,' Scrimgeour said once the room settled back down from whispering. Lily had once told him that Muggle police could be gossipy, she'd not been surprised to find out magical law enforcement weren't much different. 'Unless anyone's got any secret reports to make I think that's it. You've all got cases piling up on your desks I'm sure. Next briefing will be on the first of September. Now piss off.'

The captains chuckled and grumbled, some of the tension starting to fade away as men and women in red stood and slowly moved out of the meeting room. Robards group laughing rowdily about something, probably something pointless like how badly the Chudley Cannons were gonna do in the next match and whose husband was doing the dirty with whose wife.

Trivial shit that he wished were his biggest worries.

He was almost at the door with a grumpy Dawlish walking behind him before Scrimgeour called him back.

'Potter,' Scrimgeour said in a clipped tone. 'A word.'

What the hell did the old lion want now? James raised both his eyebrows at Dawlish who stepped to the side with a sympathetic grimace. He was just about to step away as James leant in.

'You need an extra set of eyes on that misper John?' James asked quietly enough so only those closest would hear.

John shook his head as they came to a stop behind the swell of people. 'Think I'll be alright James, ta though.'

'Let me know if that changes.'

'Will do,' Dawlish looked over his shoulder at Scrimgeour who was reading through one of the reports from earlier that'd been left on his plinth. 'I'd best get cracking, I've left Kingsley dealing with the Muggles. Talk to you later mate.'

The men shared nods and James marched up to his boss with a little more trepidation than he'd like to admit. Was he about to be grilled about why his team were officially out of his jurisdiction until Amelia said otherwise? Again?

Not likely. Rufus learned. This was probably something else. A thousand possibilities ran through his brain, each darker and more worrying than the last. Best to go into this professionally.

'Yes sir?' James asked as he stood before the sitting man. 'Problem?'

'Don't be a smart arse Potter,' Scrimgeour looked up at James with a hard frown and motioned to the chair. 'I'm just passing on a message that Madame Bones wants you and your team to report to her for a special briefing on your assignments for this week. More patrol duty and a visit to Azkaban I'm told.'

James sighed internally, a bit of relief wisping into his chest as he nodded. 'What time does she want us there?'

'About five minutes ago,' the old man smirked nastily. Oh so Rufy was trying to throw his weight around. Someone was still sore he didn't get to control his entire unit still and wasn't being told why. 'I'd hop to if I were you. Don't want to keep Madame Bones waiting.'

James allowed the slightest of frowns onto his face before he regained his composure. The very lectures he'd been giving Harry since Hogwarts broke up searing through his brain. The urge to tell Scrimgeour he'd fucked up royally rested on his tongue before he swallowed it back down.

The old bastard didn't know why. He didn't know it was Voldemort related, if he did he wouldn't be being this petty. Control Potter, control.

'Guess I'd best get going then.' James forced out as he turned to the door and calmly as possible pulled open the door. 'See you later _sir_.'

Scrimgeour had probably not liked the lack of a rise but James couldn't give a shit.

With the door firmly closed James made a beeline for his office where his team were probably lounging around wondering what was taking him so long. Amelia was going to be pissed too.

Scrimgeour would recover from his petty bullshit the second he found out about Voldemort. Until then he'd deal with the man's wounded pride. They might not like each other but they were still on the same side.

But first … James pushed open his office door, his team were waiting and turned round in unison.

Before they could say anything he barked out, 'Amelia's office. Now.'

* * *

Cool water slipped over his shoulders as he dipped under the water and bobbed back up, water falling in an arc as he re-emerged.

He ran his hands through his hair and let out a gasp as his breathing regulated, dripping water tapping against his skin.

The sunset was beautiful as he stretched out his arms over the lip of the pool. He'd finally been able to beg off from the group as they'd headed off for dinner. If Sirius hadn't finally relented Harry might have actually punched the prick.

Honestly, with all the tracking spells and Merlin only knew what else his family had put on him, Sirius didn't need to be around him the entire damn time if he was just going for his evening swim. He was just obeying _Captain_ Potter's workout schedule after all.

Twenty laps later he'd managed to work off most of the day's tension and suspicious looks from the rest of the Greengrass family.

Nick had insisted they all take in the sights of the island. Considering Harry was the only one who hadn't seen them before he supposed normally he wouldn't have minded. But today? He'd have given fucking anything to be left alone in his room for a couple hours.

Just to put some distance between him and Daphne for a bit would have been enough. She'd insisted on holding his hand at every chance today. Walking up the stairs to the old fort British wizards had built while trying to attack mainland Spain in some centuries old war, she'd brushed against him so many times that he knew it was on purpose.

Why couldn't she get that he'd nearly bloody killed her this morning and maybe being so cuddly with your psycho boyfriend was a bad idea?

He sighed and pushed off into another set of laps. The motion of his arms going over and over his head soothing as he cut through the water with ease.

He supposed he should consider himself lucky she wasn't running a damn mile from him after what had happened. Most girls would have run from him and his fucked up dangerous life years ago.

The last half of fourth year had made it bloody clear that all the years of playing at best friends who weren't a couple was stupid. But what he'd give for them to be back at the friend stage right now. Just to get some clarity on what all the new shit with Voldemort meant. Dumbledore had been bloody clear on Voldemort making a move soon, according to his family at least. What it would be none of the Order or the DMLE could figure out but it would be something.

James thought it might be an Azkaban break out or maybe a high profile assassination. Moody, ever the pessimist, said it would probably be both.

Harry couldn't really think how he could manage either without alerting the public to his return but that wasn't Harry's problem apparently. Fucking felt like his problem with all the preparation they were forcing on him.

Two weeks of just him and his dad should have been a fun start to the holidays. A rare treat where it was just the two of them and he could've been allowed to chill the hell out for just a bit.

But no, the day after he'd returned from school his dad had disappeared and he'd been left with Captain Potter.

So not having to obsess over just how much danger Daphne was in for being his girlfriend would be absolutely fucking wonderful. No such luck though, there seemed to be bloody nothing he could do to get her to realise the danger she was in.

Harry came to a stop after his tenth lap and breathed heavily as he damn near collapsed against the wall of the pool. The sun was dipping fast now, it's dying light painting the clouds pink, promising another wonderful day of weather tomorrow. A rare smile crept across his face.

'It's beautiful isn't it Harry?' Daphne's soft voice made him twist, wand arm stretched out, ready for his wand to fall from his still attached holster, one of Captain Potter's many rules. 'Easy babe, it's just me.'

Her voice was calm but there was a wary look in her face that settled Harry more than he should probably admit to.

You weren't supposed to be relieved your girlfriend was scared of you. Even if she should be.

'What are you doing up here Daphne?' Harry asked, turning his back on her to admire the last rays of the sunset. 'Shouldn't you be downstairs having dinner?'

'Shouldn't you?' Daphne returned, her voice closer than before. 'Besides, dinner was over ages ago. You've been up here hours.'

Huh. It certainly hadn't felt like hours.

'I'm surprised I was allowed to be left alone for so long,' Harry said. He resisted the urge to look around the rooftop pool. He wouldn't entirely put it past Sirius to be hiding around in his Animagus form. 'What do you want Daphne?'

Her desire to smack him upside the head radiated off the blonde girl so hard he didn't need to look around. The fact that she hadn't hit him yet was amazing … or maybe weirdly upsetting. She'd never shied away from giving him a well-deserved thump.

'Sirius offered to come check on you but I thought you'd prefer me.' Daphne's voice wavered for a second but it was strong again so quickly he couldn't be sure he'd not imagined it. 'Also I think we need to talk about what happened this morning.'

Harry swallowed deeply and turned around to stare up at Daphne, who was sitting on the nearest sun lounger to the pool. Her long blonde flowed down over her shoulders as the wind played with her fringe, strands of beautiful hair falling into blue eyes. A line of a frown marring her face as concern covered her.

Merlin she was gorgeous, why'd she have to be gorgeous right now?

'Is this where you tell me it's okay that I nearly killed you?' Harry said softly. Not able to look her in the eyes when he did. 'Or that it wasn't my fault that I nearly blasted you to smithereens?'

'No. I don't appreciate the sarcasm either,' Daphne said more calmly than he'd expected. 'And I'm not going to say you didn't scare me this morning either. I wouldn't lie to you like that.'

Harry nodded glumly and sighed. 'Then what Daphne? What's there to talk about?'

'You could start with what the dream was about.' Daphne crossed her legs and her arms, a slight shiver running through her body. She even scoffed when his eyebrows climbed up to his hairline. 'Oh come on Harry, I spent the last year sharing a bed with you. You really think I don't know one of your nightmares when I see them?'

She hadn't seen them all. And besides, this wasn't a Voldemort dream like everyone was worried about. Hell, he'd actually kinda like a Voldemort dream right about now. At least those he _knew_ were real and had a purpose.

Endless nightmares of his friends and family dying in his arms could really just fuck off.

'It wasn't a Voldemort dream,' Harry said. He lifted himself out of the pool, water splashing against the edge as he climbed up. He threw his hand out and his towel flew over to him from the chair he'd taken hours ago. He started to towel himself off as he stood. 'No need to tell Dad.'

Daphne looked sceptical, ignoring his wandless magic entirely and frowned deeper. 'Well regardless, maybe you should tell your dad you're having nightmares all the same. They _might_ be Voldemort dreams and maybe we could finally look into stopping them. He could be doing it on purpose do mess with you like your dad said.'

Harry rolled his eyes and snarled. 'Yeah cus Captain Potter knows what's best for everyone.'

It was Daphne's turn to roll her eyes and he hated that she did it even better than he ever could. Girls must get lessons on this sort of shit that boys weren't allowed. 'Well given how out of everyone he's fought more dark wizards in a week than hopefully you will in your lifetime … yeah babe, he knows best.'

'It's not him who had to watch the literal boogeyman from his nightmares rise from the dead and kill-'

Daphne spoke softly as Harry turned away from her. 'Was ... was it m-me?'

Harry span around. 'What?'

'You've been distant all day Harry. I thought it was just because of what happened this morning but it's more than that isn't it?' Daphne stood, her long summer dress dancing gently in the wind. 'Please talk to me?'

The cool air turned suffocating as Daphne drew near, her uncomfortably warm hand entwining his. Her touch didn't soothe and her voice wasn't calming.

She needed to get away, just like all of today when she'd reach out for his hand and he'd pulled away from her every chance he got. Desperate to put distance between the two of them, to keep her safe from him. Whatever the fuck was going on with him she couldn't be near.

'If you won't talk to your dad, at least talk to me.' Daphne's hand went to his cheek and Harry had to stamp down on the urge to flinch away. 'You can tell me anything, you know that.'

Yeah cus if it was a Voldemort dream it totally wouldn't get back to his dad now. Daphne might be his girlfriend but he wasn't gonna assume that meant if she thought his dad needed to know she wouldn't tell him.

Voldemort's bloody return had changed everything. Everything.

His dad probably already knew anyway. Sirius had probably told him the second Harry had left his sight.

Bet Sirius wouldn't be telling his dad he'd let Harry have some privacy though. Heaven forbid Captain Potter's orders be disobeyed and Harry get any privacy. If it wouldn't be too bloody creepy, it wouldn't be hard for Harry to believe James insist someone be in the bathroom with him when he took a piss.

But he just couldn't bring himself to properly talk about it with Daphne. He wanted some privacy, was it too much to ask for? Normal people didn't have to tell everyone about their nightmares. It got to be a choice for normal people.

 _Normal people's nightmares don't lead to them nearly killing people though do they?_ A nasty little voice whispered in his ear.

'Harry?'

'It was just a bad dream Daphne,' Harry said as he disentangled himself from her. 'I was fighting so when I woke up I was still fighting. That's all.'

Daphne didn't look convinced but let him go all the same. 'Not a Voldemort dream? You're sure?'

'One hundred percent. No creepy snake voices or Wormtail. I was just duelling people. I'm sorry I scared you.' Harry's eyes were getting blurry again, the spell he'd cast wearing off. 'Have you seen my glasses?'

She held them out in her hand and he scooped them up with a quick thanks.

'Who were you duelling?' Daphne pressed. Her dress pushing against her form as the wind picked up. She shivered again. 'It definitely wasn't friendly Harry.'

'It's not important, come on let's go inside, you're shivering.' Harry forced himself to wrap an arm around her and prayed the claustrophobic feeling of touching her went away by tomorrow. She wouldn't let it go if he couldn't bring himself to touch her at all.

And he needed her to let it go, even if it was just so he could.

She let him guide her, needing his warmth more than she'd admit, until they got to the stairs as they were finally plunged into darkness. 'You will tell me if it happens again.'

'Sure, sure, if it happens again I'll tell you.'

'I mean it Harry.' She grabbed at the towel still draped over his shoulders. 'If it happens again, you better bloody tell me.'

Harry just nodded and tried to ignore the ever present feeling of dread sinking into his bones.

Merlin, please don't let it happen again, he thought to himself as the door banged closed above them.

* * *

 **A/N:** I live!

Had you worried there for a second didn't I? TUI's back to his old tricks already!

Well fear not readers, I am returned and I already have all of chapter three planned out so that should be out a damn sight sooner.

So I hope you enjoyed the read, leave me a review with what you thought and I shall see you guys later.

In a bit,

TUI


	3. One Flew Over The Augrey's Nest

Chapter Three

 **One Flew Over the Augrey's Nest**

Harry had thought that he'd be used to roaring crowds by now.

After years of travelling to duelling tournaments and with the Triwizard Tournament last year, he had found himself at least part of, if not the entire focus of crowds of people. But standing in the middle of the stadium, ranks of competitors stood around him, he felt the familiar claustrophobia of the spotlight.

A few fellow competitors from previous tournaments smiled and nodded respectfully at him, settling him a little as the announcer droned on. He'd lost track of Daphne when the competitors had been led into the stadium, it made his skin itch. Especially standing in the very place _that_ dream from their first night on the island had taken place.

Different banners of popular duellists and of the tournament logo being in different places helped to separate reality from his nightmare. But only a little.

A couple of nights of Dreamless Sleep from Ophelia might have kept his nightmares at bay but he'd rather have the dreams than have yet more control of his life taken away from him.

There'd been no refusing his girlfriend's mother's insistence that he would be better off with undisturbed sleep. When he'd tried to say he didn't need it, Lady Ophelia Greengrass had scowled at him, rapped him on the head and told him that if he didn't take it willingly she would 'pull back your thick head, pinch your nose shut and pour it down your neck myself.'

So he'd taken the damn potion. And yes he was feeling better, both physically and mentally but that was beside the point. He'd still given up more of his say and while this was not his dad's style, Ophelia didn't let anyone tell her what to do, he wouldn't be surprised if the elder Potter didn't know and approve.

Harry didn't. He understood the fact that he needed to be rested or he'd be slaughtered at the tournament and if the nightmares carried on he'd be unable to train without running the risk of hurting himself and getting sloppy. Which would get him killed. Because in war, a single slip up and you could die.

It all came back to war. His whole bloody life was centred on the bloody war against Voldemort.

But he didn't need someone mothering him with potions. He loved Ophelia but he didn't need her to be his mother. He had a mother, she couldn't be replaced just because she'd died. Especially as she had died _for_ him.

That was the one thing he could say about Aurora. She understood that she couldn't replace Lily Potter as Harry's mother. Ophelia didn't seem to get the hint that she only had two kids and neither of them were Harry.

When he thought about Professor Sinistra though he realised that he hadn't even really seen his dad's girlfriend since leaving Hogwarts. The few times they had spent time together the Astronomy professor had been as kind and fun as ever but she didn't seem to know just how to approach Harry's overwhelmed state as anything more than either his teacher or a concerned adult.

She had tried to keep conversation away from his dad though and Harry figured that meant that until Harry had left Hogwarts the supposedly random visits were one of the many ways James was keeping an eye on him through other people. Aurora had certainly seemed uncomfortable about asking personal questions. She'd almost seemed mad at having to ask how he was sleeping.

Maybe his dad was pissing Aurora off just as much as he was Harry. He'd be happy to have Aurora on his side if it wasn't for the fact that she was still asking. Still following James' orders.

That kinda killed any chance of him trusting Aurora. If James wanted to know how Harry was he could just read all the other reports on his little soldier.

Harry shook his head as the summer sun beat down on him and the announcer switched from Spanish into French. Merlin only knew how many more languages the prick was going to say the same thing in over and over again. Why couldn't they just pick a language and then cast a spell on the crowd so they would hear it in their own language?

That was a thing right? He was sure it was a thing. He'd have to look into it when he got back to Hogwarts.

If he got to go to school this year. Hogwarts was the safest place in the UK and despite his dad's problem with Dumbledore, which was stupid, not even James Potter would assume their ancestral home was safer.

But the way his dad had been acting lately … it wouldn't surprise Harry if he wasn't allowed to return.

He wiped his forehead as sweat beaded in his eyebrows. The crowds were still roaring along, most of the flags of the countries in Europe flapped magically. The Norwegian flag was definitely there, normally with banners and large blown up moving pictures of Sissel Gertson.

His stomach turned and Daphne's lifeless face flashed in his mind, paler than the Norwegian girl on the banners.

Harry forced himself to look away from the pale blonde teenager's stern gaze from the stands and instead looked to the opposite side and immediately wished he hadn't. His own grinning face was plastered all over the stands where his bloody fans were sitting. Why didn't they just send a massive neon sign to Voldemort and his Death Eaters of where Harry was? Didn't they fucking know Voldemort was back?

 _No, they don't. They don't know a damn thing._

Harry's anger burned harder in his chest. The general public didn't know anything and they couldn't possibly know that they were putting Harry and everyone on the island in danger. It made the possibility of his nightmare coming true even higher.

All because James wouldn't let Harry stand with Dumbledore when he had tried to convince the Minister of Magic and his inept Ministry that Voldemort was back. Which led to the Prophet, which was practically part of Fudge's own propaganda machine as well as a pathetic tabloid excuse of a newspaper, to attack Albus Dumbledore.

At least magazines like Witch Weekly and Teen Witch Weekly lived up to what they were. Even the Quibbler didn't claim to be more than it was like the Daily Prophet did.

This summer had already seen Dumbledore stripped of his position as Supreme Mugwump and being called senile and past it despite telling everyone the truth. If he'd had the Potters' support maybe he'd still at least be on the Wizenmagot and Fudge and his toadies, which had to be linked to Death Eaters if Lucius Malfoy was actually around as much as Harry had always heard, wouldn't be able to influence laws so easily.

He'd tried everything he could think of to get James to side with Dumbledore. Everything. But Captain Potter knew best as per usual.

Dumbledore stood alone, his authority being undermined when they needed the most powerful wizard in the world most and Harry had been given his orders and set watchers and chaperones.

It'd nearly ruined the couple of days he'd spent with Sirius and the Greengrasses looking around the island. They'd spent all of yesterday walking through the marketplaces, buying souvenirs, ingredients that Ophelia needed for the Dreamless Sleep and a couple of keepsakes.

Daphne had gotten a caricature drawing of them both that moved along the parchment like they were dancing and even if Harry's scar had been made even more dramatic than it was, it had been a nice moment. For just an afternoon he was able to slightly relax and just be Daphne's boyfriend for an hour.

He had kissed her properly for the first time in ages, much to the blonde's delight, they'd walked down the street hand in hand and he'd admit to having a little bit of a perv down the low cut, flowing top Daphne had been wearing.

His brain had briefly slipped into fantasies about them alone on the roof of the hotel … and then he'd bumped into a reminder of his nightmare.

The famous Greek announcer, Philopus Sotir, had nearly got his own head blown off when he'd grabbed Harry by the shoulder and pulled him round with a resounding shout.

'Harry Potter!' he had said. 'I thought that was you! You are back for the tournament I hope? You were robbed by that lucky French boy last year. You will … walk it? … is how you say it yes?'

Daphne's hand had already been up to stop the exuberant man from spotting that Harry's wand was pointed at his heart. She'd squeezed his fingers with her other hand but it did nothing to calm him down.

Especially when Sirius was looming in the background watching the large man's back from a stall across the street.

He'd clutched around his wand and shoved it back up his sleeve with a forced smile. 'Yeah, I'm here to compete again. I'm surprised you're out in the streets though, don't you have things to do for tomorrow?'

Philopus waved him off and stroked his long, sleek black hair. 'No, no. Nothing for me to do until I open event with Raphael tomorrow. It is all very dull until then. But enough about my job, that we will see soon … you have brought a beautiful girl to cheer you on I see.' The Greek man scratched his beard with a mischievous glint in his black eyes as a smile tugged at his lip. 'No, you have brought a competitor. Excellent, we need new blood. We were thinking maybe joint underage competition, I would welcome the opportunity for girls to show boys they are just as competent, yes. Wouldn't you agree, Miss …?'

Daphne gave the man that damn dazzling smile, the one that normally would have stirred things in Harry, and offered her hand to the older man. 'Greengrass sir, Daphne Greengrass and I'm here for both.'

' _Theamatiki_. I wish you luck Miss Greengrass, there is many competitors who could do with a shake-up. Maybe then we shall be able to convince the others that the girls' champion deserves a chance to challenge the boys' champion. No going easy on Mr Potter if he wins though.' The man had winked playfully and Daphne cast Harry a cheeky smile before kissing him swiftly on the cheek.

The Greek man boomed with laughter and slapped Harry on the shoulder. 'Ah I see it's like that already. Well Mr Potter, I hope for your case my companions continue not to listen to me. But I must go, my husband awaits me in the restaurant in our hotel. I shall see you tomorrow. _Antío!_ '

And with that the man had gone, taking Harry's good mood with him and for the rest of the day Harry had to deal with a concerned Daphne who was desperately trying to recapture the fun of the morning.

He'd gone to bed early after another late night swim, Sirius joining him this time, and had blamed nerves on why he wasn't kissing Daphne, he felt queasy and didn't want to pass on a bug if that's what it was.

The Slytherin clearly didn't buy it but she didn't push him on it. Thank merciful Merlin. He'd still be getting it in the neck the next chance Daphne got him alone but the brief peace would do for now.

He could blame tiredness from the duelling as why he wasn't spending so much time with her away from the others. No, that'd be complete bollocks and she'd automatically call him out with the fact that she was duelling just as much as he was.

Fuck it, he'd figure something out. At least she wouldn't be in danger from his nightmares like the first night … not with her mother dosing him every night.

'And with that!' The announcer's voice boomed across the stadium in accented English. 'We announce this, the five hundred and seventy second Isla Torrolva Games have begun!'

The stadium erupted, fans cheering on their idols and even the gathered duellists shouted as they raised their wands to send sparks into the air.

Harry didn't cast anything, his hand was too tightly clasped around his far too flimsy feeling wand. The only protection he had against the world.

He caught Daphne's worried look from the midst of the crowd. The kind of look she always gave him just before she crushed him into a big hug.

She couldn't reach him though and Harry's gut clenched over the relief he felt for that.

The duelling would start tomorrow. That would make everything easier for him.

It had to.

* * *

The chill of the prison intensified as James and his team stepped out onto the maximum security wing of Azkaban prison. Death Eater Bay as the guards posted on the island called it.

Even in the middle of August, the island was freezing. The Dementors' effect on their home was year round and James had to admit that even he got freaked out every time they came here.

He had a stash of chocolate sitting in a bag on his belt, just in case the team needed it.

Kendra shivered next to him and he had to resist the urge to squeeze her shoulder in support. It always hit her the hardest. If it hadn't been for an understanding Enforcer, Kendra could have found herself in one of the minor security wings on trumped up charges.

The Dementors spent most of their time in Death Eater Bay, their food was more haunted up here after all, but they still did rounds in the lower wings. Kendra's defence of her little sister could have left her with a fortnightly visit from the wraiths for years.

Even Moody was quiet as they walked past the squalid cells, what remained of the men and women inside staring out blankly. That would change shortly, the Dementors were locked away, out of reach of their favourite victims and James' team for as long as they needed.

Amelia had questions for the Dark Lord's followers and it would help if they were able to talk.

James turned to Moody who nodded and grabbed Hestia and Kendra as they'd discussed on the way up. They were to do a head count, ask a few questions of the inmates with it enough to talk and then circle back round to leave.

The whole thing should take a couple hours max. Less if the evil bastards who called this hell hole home were too out of it.

James spared Kendra a reassuring nod and the young woman grimaced before following after the clunk of Moody's wooden leg on stone.

With a sigh James went to the start of the corridor of cells and ran his fingers down the roll call. His finger stopped at a set of three names before he continued to the end. He couldn't let these scumbags see him rattled. They would latch onto it and he couldn't let that happen.

When their master came for them James needed his top lieutenants to believe that James Potter was still the ruthless bastard who'd put them away in the first place. They needed to fear him still, even if it was just a little.

He took a deep breath and flexed his wrist, the feel of his wand comforting.

'Okay girls,' James said quietly to the equally pale looking women. 'Time to see if some old friends want to talk.'

'Lead the way boss,' Tonks said with a stiff nod. She knew who was down here. James had warned her ahead of time when he'd split the team in half. He'd been worried that Dora's common sense would elude her when faced with the opportunity to hurt Bellatrix. The chance that'd she have shown up in her natural state had always been possible.

Andromeda 'Andy' Tonks was always joking that she'd insisted Dora had outrageous hair so she could live vicariously through her daughter. Especially as when she walked around as she'd been born Dora looked like a younger version of her mother and Andy didn't need that kind of comparison.

But when he saw the same neon pink hair and heart shaped face he'd been relieved. At least a little bit.

Becky swallowed thickly but other than that gave no sign of her fear. Good.

And with that they made their way up to the first cell, the stink of its inhabitant hitting James in the face like a freight train.

The blank stare of a man in rags, his body all but skeletal. Bald patches of yellowy skin peppered his head, offset by scraggly clumps of grey hair.

'Timothy Kloves,' James said sharply. Becky and Tonks came in closer, recoiling from the man moments later. 'Murderer. Torturer. Killed whole families of Muggles and Muggle-borns. By making them kill each other.'

The man in the cell didn't reply, the Dementors' effect complete as the man who had been only a couple of years older than James when he'd been thrown in, looked older than James' father had towards the end.

'He's not going anywhere,' James said coldly. 'Let's go.'

Becky and Tonks followed silently as they approached the next cell. This one occupied by a woman.

'Valicity Haines,' James said. 'Castrated and murdered pureblood wizards who'd married Muggle women and Muggle-born witches. Eviscerated pureblood witches who'd married and had children with Muggles and Muggle-born wizards.'

Haines was just as skeletal as Kloves. Her hair was long and lank. It lay tangled in the stones of her cell as she rocked back and forth, keening like a dying animal, her rags hung off her.

Tonks scowled at the witch and turned away, her gaze shifting up to the last cell at the top of the corridor.

'She's no good to us either,' James said. He tapped Tonks on the shoulder as he approached the third cell.

His fist clenched instinctively as he approached the only cell not to stink yet.

'Antonin Dolohov,' James almost hissed. Images of fighting against the zealot flashed in James' mind, the gleeful look in his eyes behind ivory mask still drilled into his brain.

He still remembered the way Dolohov had recounted his brutal murder of the Prewett twins, Gideon and Fabian, with four other Death Eaters. His words had been softly whispered, like a caress for a lover.

'Sadistic murderer.'

The old man was one of Voldemort's very first followers, back before James had even been born. He was one of the worst and according to the testimony of Karkaroff, a butcher who took pleasure in toying with his victims.

'Voldemort's chief torturer.'

One of James' first missions for the Order had been rescuing a woman, her name Obliviated from his mind for her safety, after she had been held captive by Dolohov. She'd been alive thank merciful Merlin, but the haunted look in her eyes as she held her heavily pregnant belly still visited him in his nightmares.

'Rapist.'

Dolohov didn't register James. His gaze fixed onto Becky. Hungry eyes ran the length of the young woman and James' fist clenched, the urge to pull his wand constant.

Dolohov was a special kind of Death Eater.

A born psychopath, Antonin Dolohov would have been an evil man without Voldemort's influence but with his guidance, Dolohov had mastered self-control.

He delighted in the carnage he wrought and James had never been angrier with Moody than when he'd brought him in alive.

 _You should have killed him Alastor! For Gideon and Fabian!_

 _I'm not a murderer boy, I brought him in alive because I could. The Prewetts understood the law. They would want him rotting._

 _They would want him dead!_

'I have questions for you Dolohov.' James got closer to the cell, the man's eyes never left Becky. The woman did her best not to show her disgust and fear in the face of the unfettered staring.

'Are you in contact with Voldemort?'

Dolohov didn't react.

'Is he planning to break you and his other followers out?'

Becky walked to stand behind Tonks and Dolohov's gaze followed her.

James wasn't going to get any answers with Fowler here. Dolohov's obsessive personality was infamous and it was what'd led to the rescue of that poor woman in the first war to start with.

Dread settled over him as the old man remained fixed. He forced himself to remain still, ignoring the cold sweat running down his back.

Dolohov,' James spat the name. No response from the fixated monster.

He stepped away after a long moment and without speaking to the two young women James marched past the cell and up to the intersection that led to the next set of cells.

'Fowler,' James said quietly. The shaken brunette stood next to him and she'd never looked younger. 'Well done for not breaking silence.'

Becky nodded, the previous exuberance that came from praise he'd given her back before Voldemort's return completely gone. 'Thank you sir.'

They approached the next four cells. All of the occupants were either lunatics, shells of people or, to James' disgust, dead.

He listed their names and crimes all the same. It was important Dora and Becky understood just what they would be dealing with when war broke out properly.

'Gareth Tarpin, murderer and rapist. Sonya Jerris, serial murderer. Fond of mutilation. Terrence Wishburn, murderer and cannibal. Molfirn Taft, murderer, torturer and paedophile.'

Taft's corpse lay starfished on the floor of his cell, his own blood splattered out from him. How long he'd been there was uncertain, the wounds across his chest and groin were still open and seeping but that could be from a spell.

If it had been anywhere else there would have been an inquiry. Death Eater's Bay was different though. Taft making it this long was a miracle. The only question was whether he'd been killed by one guard or multiple ones.

'Shouldn't we report that sir?' Becky whispered as they lingered in front of the body. 'I know he was a Death Eater but …'

'Nothing would happen Becky,' Tonks said softly before James could. 'Not when it's a sicko like him. They wouldn't have dared leave him out like that with us coming if us reporting it would do a damn thing.'

Becky shivered at the corpse, the word nonce slashed into his abdomen, before turning away to swallow back the vomit that was probably rising in her throat.

'He's a child molester,' James said. The words, _he deserved it,_ lingering unspoken in the air. 'Let's move on.'

Turning away from the dead man, James marched on. Not much longer now, they could be out of this forsaken island soon.

Just time for a mini family reunion, he thought.

Tonks' hadn't looked away from the end of the row since they'd left Dolohov. The hate in his friend's eyes was frightening. He'd only ever seen that level of rage in a few other faces.

Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black was one of them.

They approached Bellatrix's brother-in-law's cell first. Rabastan Lestrange's eyes hid behind dirty black hair that hung in his face much like it had when James had last seen him.

Frank and Alice's unfocused faces flashed in his mind as James stomped down on the rage. His friends' torturers didn't need to know how much he still hated them. How he wished he'd killed every single one of them and not just Rodolphus.

'Rabastan Lestrange.' James' voice was cold, ice in every syllable. 'Murderer, torturer. One of four Death Eaters who tortured Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom.'

The bearded man said nothing. Not even aware they were there.

James stepped up to the cell so Rabastan could see him. But the man didn't turn to look at him. He just murmured quietly to himself, facing forward as he rocked back and forth slowly.

'How's the arm Rabastan?' Tonks said scathingly as she stood next to James.

More murmuring. His wispy body creaked as his bones popped, his Dark Mark clearly visible against his tattered rags.

James didn't know whether to be pleased or disturbed that a man who had been famous for his devious spell work and higher than average intelligence had been brought so low.

Rabastan Lestrange may have been the younger of the two Lestrange brothers but he was by no means less than Rodolphus. Rabastan had been a scarily clever man in his younger days, many had said that it was a shame that Rodolphus was the one who'd inherit the lordship over his younger brother. So much more obviously intelligent and skilled than his older brother, he should have been the heir.

But the man himself had never shown any kind of problem with being second behind Rodolphus. If the reaction the younger Lestrange had had when James had killed his brother, and accidentally chopped off Rabastan's wand arm, was anything to go by … James would say the brothers had loved each other deeply.

Andromeda had said that Rabastan had been the best man at Rodolphus and Bellatrix's wedding. Even evil, dark magic wielding racists loved family he supposed.

Now though … the fearsome and powerful Rabastan Lestrange, a Slytherin's Slytherin who'd been nothing but a nightmare to duel against and fight during Voldemort's first war, was a one armed lunatic driven mad by grief.

James wondered what the piece of scum heard when the Dementors fed on him. His brother's body hitting the ground? The slick sound of James' spell cutting off his arm and slicing Rodolphus' neck?

'Boss?' Tonks interrupted James' pondering with a concerned look. 'He's talking but he's not answering the question.'

'What's he saying?'

'Your name... over and over again.'

James stepped a little closer to the cell, his mind racing with sudden realization. 'Come away Tonks.'

The man just kept chanting James' name, he could hear him now. The stench of him was unreal, the sick bastard probably didn't even pay enough attention to himself to even try and wash.

Not that washing was a common thing unless the guards started using water charms.

'Come on,' James trained his vision on the man's face pointedly. An old taunt seeping from his cold lips, 'one and a half Lestranges down, one to go.'

Like a firework, the disgusting man shot upwards and flung himself towards James.

He slammed against the metal bars, the clang of his bony body rang in James' ears, a hollow sound that echoed through the halls. Arm stretched, teeth bared, Rabastan clawed at empty air trying to grab James and pull him close.

But all he could do was graze the tips of James' robes. His lips threatened to curl. Rabastan's impotent fury, now rendered completely pointless.

'Still in there Lestrange?' James murmured. 'Good.'

Rabastan continued to grope the air, dirty and bleeding fingernails marring James' robes as he screamed and shouted unintelligibly. So consumed with rage and driven mad from the Dementors that he couldn't even manage words.

Without another word, James turned away, allowing Lestrange to feel the other man moving from his reach easily, a living reminder that he had failed to avenge his brother yet again.

The screaming didn't stop even after James knew he was out of sight, the shadowy halls between the cells were meant to isolate the inmates from everything, but Rabastan kept screaming and reaching out.

But it was useless for him. James had everything he needed to know about Rabastan Lestrange, time to move on to the next inmate.

The air seemed to freeze over as they approached Bellatrix Lestrange's cell.

He had expected to find her crumpled against the wall or maybe similarly fixated on something like Rabastan, the reality was much more frightening.

Bellatrix Lestrange had been a powerful witch before the war. The few times they had fought had resulted in some of the luckiest escapes of his young life. She'd been a demon and despite the lauding praise he'd received once the news broke that he'd defeated her at the Longbottoms, James knew it'd been mostly luck which had allowed him to walk away. If Bellatrix hadn't been so distracted by her torture of Frank and Alice and then the sudden death and dismembering of her husband and brother-in-law ... James shuddered to think how that duel would have ended.

It had been the hardest duel of his life and he still had nightmares about what could have been if he hadn't reacted quicker than the dangerous woman. Her screams of vengeance and promises to kill him had earned laughter during the high of battle but it had been humourless. He hadn't doubted she would kill him if she ever got a second chance and he hadn't expected she'd need it until he'd knocked her out by throwing her clear across the room with a well-timed Blasting Hex.

Azkaban, he had hoped, would neutralise any threat she'd pose in the future. No wand and locked away in the hellish prison, she should have been driven insensible by madness or just vacant.

Instead, it seemed to have done nothing to her.

The woman prowled up and down the small confines of her cell. Her hair was frazzled and her rags clung to her bony form but there was no weakness coming from the caged woman.

It was her eyes.

The once beautiful woman paced languidly in front of the bars, watching them as they approached. Assessing and dissecting, searching for the weakest link.

Bellatrix Lestrange wasn't a prisoner in this horrendous hellhole … she was a predator in her territory.

Not for the first time James questioned his decision to include Dora on his half of the interrogations as he saw the young woman clench her fist and grit her teeth behind tightly shut lips.

'Bellatrix Lestrange,' Dora said as her aunt eyed her up and down before moving over to James, the only sign she was displeased by their presence being a slight frown that felt more curious than hateful. 'Murderer, torturer and one of Voldemort's most loyal Death Eater bitches.'

The older woman blinked. A sinister gleam flashing behind dark eyes as her gaze settled on the Metamorphmagus.

'My, my.' Bellatrix rasped out, her eyes moving between Dora and Becky before flitting over to him. 'Company.'

'Quiet,' snapped Tonks. Her voice cold, hair flashing red. 'We have questions that you _will_ answer.'

Bellatrix stopped her pacing. A slight frown on her dirtied features as she moved towards them. Spider-like fingers curled around the bars, her eyes glittering as they focused on Dora's hair. A calculating look settled over her and James didn't think.

He moved. Drew closer to the witches on pure instinct and swore at himself when Bellatrix smiled.

It wasn't a grand gesture, just a pull at the corner of her lips- but it was enough.

She'd found her prey.

Bellatrix took a step back, hands spread out in welcome. 'Of course,' Bella said genially. 'Only if I can ask some back.'

Becky visibly shivered as Bella's gaze settled on her. 'We ask the questions D-death Eater.'

The Death Eater in question's head tilted to the side, considering the younger woman with a soft smile. 'Aren't you sweet?' she said, her tone quiet and friendly. 'I'll kill you first.'

Tonks stuck her wand into Bella's face and snarled. 'You stay away from her bitch!'

Bellatrix's eyes sparkled with dark excitement as she stared down the wand at her the younger witch. 'You can't protect her,' continued Bella. Her voice turned saccharine sweet. Equal parts childlike, disturbing and annoying. 'She will die.'

'I'll kill you my damn self before you even get a chance to try,' hissed Dora. Her wand tip pulsed with power, the light casting shadows over the other woman's face, enhancing the skeletal look of her hollowed out face.

Unfazed by the threat or the magic at her throat, Bella's face went from smiling to inspecting. She edged forward, the tip almost grazing her neck as she stared unblinkingly, and unknowingly, at her niece.

'Who are you?' Bellatrix whispered. The near silence of the prison made her voice resonate as if she'd shouted. 'Did I kill your mummy? Daddy? _Both?_ Is that why you're so scared?'

Dora's wand flashed with light, mere millimetres away from the sallow skin of the smiling woman's throat.

'You don't frighten me bitch,' Tonks said. 'Not with Captain Potter here.'

Bellatrix's eyes flickered over to James at the word captain but the smile on her face didn't drop as she renewed her prowling.

Dora's wandtip flared a brilliant white, thrusting their surroundings into sudden, sharp contrast. Exposing the squalor of Bella's cell, her emaciated features and serene smile. James' jaw clenched as Tonks' hair turned black and he fought the urge to reach for his wand when Bella stopped in her tracks.

The dangerous woman pierced Tonks with intelligent eyes. 'Who... are you?' she asked again, her amusement all but gone.

Dora shifted beside him, lowering her wand. Her heavy breathing broke the silence which had followed Bellatrix's question.

Sinister eyes studied Dora's features. A flicker of recognition threatened to spark.

'Enough,' he said, his tone cutting and authoritative as he stared down the metamorphmagus. Damn girl was baiting a caged dragon and she had no fucking idea what she was playing with. He turned back to Bella, who's unflinching gaze hadn't moved away from Dora. 'Have you been in cont-'

'She dared,' breathed out Bella. Head shaking, eyes wide as she clutched at the bars. 'She dared.'

Incoherent words escaped the witch as her knuckles grew white and her features turned wild. Beside him, Dora laughed.

'She dared,' whispered the younger witch, with a forwards step.

Bella slammed against the bars, arms out, reaching for Tonks' cloak. Blue light ignited around her cell, the wards coming to life as her fingertips faded into smoke. The mad witch screamed.

'She dared! She dared!'

Bellatrix moved away from the bars, her fingers solidifying once more, spit flying from her lips as Dora continued to laugh. The younger witch relaxed her features, allowing her natural form to come through and that was enough. He pulled Tonks away, hazel eyes boring into deep blue.

The family connection was far too blatant to deny. She looked like a mix between Bellatrix and Andy, but with the sharper features softened by Ted's genetics.

He saw the second Bella's words registered with Dora, silencing her laughter.

'...I'll kill her... She... I'll kill her...'

Her eyes grew wide. Tonks' lips parted as her hair turned purple.

Finally, James realised, she understood.

'... He will allow it... Blood... When he comes... She will die...'

Dora had grown pale. A panicked look in her eyes, moisture pooling at the rims. He needed to get her away.

There was a flicker of something in Bellatrix's face but James wasn't sure what it was. He just knew it wasn't the reaction Dora was after. He didn't want to delve into what it was any deeper than that to be frank.

James didn't say anything else as he turned to walk away, leaving Becky and Dora to trail behind him. With a misstep, he stumbled as Bellatrix's yells morphed into maniacal laughter.

He took a deep breath once Bellatrix's laughter had quietened down and with a quick half-smile to a deeply disturbed looking Becky and a sharp look to Dora, James barreled on to the last inmate on his list.

The crumpled form of a man sat against the far wall, a dirty bandage wrapped through mud splattered hair and over his eye. A larger, stained one encircled the stump of a leg that ended above the knee.

'He's coming,' Barty giggled to himself, his arm stretched out in front of him as he traced his fingers over his Dark Mark, now clearly visible against his skin. 'He's coming, he's coming.'

'Barty Crouch Junior,' James said loudly. The waif of a man raised his head and stared wordlessly up at the familiar voice, his mouth hanging open. 'Murderer, torturer, kidnapper and fraudster. Guilty of countless crimes, chief among them the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom and the kidnap of Alastor Moody.'

'He's coming,' Crouch said from his resting place. 'Coming to wipe the world clean of all the unworthy!'

James raised an eyebrow at the giddy man. His knife must have buried deeper than he'd meant. The boy had always been insane but this was different.

Barty suddenly snarled and impotently shouted and howled at the three Aurors. The whole thing was quite pathetic when you realised what the overpowering smell coming from the man was.

Besides the piss and shit, there was a sickly smell of death. Hazel eyes moved towards the stump. The wet bandage, a lovely shade of dark green and black.

Barty Crouch Junior was literally rotting in jail.

'Don't worry Barty, we're only here for a quick question or two then we'll leave you to it.' James carried on as he stepped up to the bars, the corner of his lips curled.

'He will kill you all!' Spittle flew from his mouth, peppering the floor, only adding more disgusting contents to his cell. 'Blood traitors, Mudbloods and Mudblood sympathisers alike. He is coming and we will paint the world red with their blood!'

James walked forward and Barty fixated on him, looking less like a terrible criminal and more like a small boy who was crying out his domination of the world from the naughty step.

'Does that mean you've been in contact with Voldemort since you were put here?' James said slowly. The temptation to smack the bastard around some more sat heavy on his chest but it wouldn't do anything. Barty was pretty fearless now he'd lost what remained of his senses.

Azkaban would do that to you. Especially if you woke up here with a knife wound where your eye used to be.

'The Dark Lord. My master, speaks to me constantly, promising retribution against my enemies. For his enemies are my enemies, he will kill you for what you have done to his most faithful. He promised.' Barty's face went slack and gormless, staring down at the cobbles of his cell. He screamed sharply and rocked forward, finger pointing at James. 'You hurt his most faithful! Torture and pain! Dark Magic and knives! For your son! My master and I will drink the blood of the child together!'

James wasn't sure if Barty was actively threatening Harry again or not, but it made his wand hand itch all over again for some retribution of his own.

He stamped it down, this place drew out the worst in people at the best of times, the fact that James had _already_ tortured Barty just made it worse.

'Has he said when he will come for you Barty?'

'Soon.' Barty smiled inanely and rocked side to side against the wall. 'The Master is coming soon, he's coming, he's coming. He's coming for his most faithful.'

James stared at the man, his remaining eye unfocused for the most part but every now and then there was the beginning of lucidity. If Voldemort did come for Barty Crouch Junior and his other supposedly most loyal Death Eaters … would he be able to fix the shell of a man in this cell?

Mind magic had always been one of Voldemort's most terrifying talents and he wouldn't put it past the man to bring Barty back from the insanity he currently dwelled in. If just enough to be useful in a fight.

The younger man starting moaning and keening as he rocked back and forth, slamming his head against the wall with a sharp yell every time his head connected.

'Let's go,' James said to the girls, Dora still looking white after her confrontation with Bellatrix but at least a little steadier than before. 'We're not getting anything out of Barty Crouch today.'

They left him shouting and screaming in his cell, the sight of the powerful Death Eater burning into James' retina.

Once it had died down and they'd been walking in silence long enough for Dora to put back on the cheery mask she'd been wearing when they left the others, Becky plucked up the courage to speak for the first time since Dolohov.

'Sir?' Her voice was timid and more than a little frightened.

'Yes Fowler?' James said without turning round. 'Do you need some chocolate?'

'N-no.'

Yes then, James went to fish out a big piece for the girl. He was already regretting bringing the two newer recruits along.

'Did you really torture that Death Eater?'

James' fingers closed around a good sized chunk of chocolate and offered it to the young woman who was looking at him desperately. Her thoughts were clear as day in her eyes.

Let him not have done it. Let Captain James Potter, the good and honourable Auror Captain who she admired, not be capable of such things. Because if even the good guys tortured what hope was there in this world?

'He threatened my son Becky.' James pushed the chocolate into her hand and looked her dead in the eyes for a good five seconds. 'I had to protect my family. Do you understand?'

Some of the light in her eyes died as she looked away. He was finally off the pedestal it seemed.

Good, she needed to know the truth of him if she was going to work with him.

'Would you like to request a transfer off my team Auror Fowler?'

The girl took a long moment before she shook her head and took a big bite out of her chocolate.

'No sir. I still want to be part of your team.'

James stepped away from the vulnerable looking woman and he looked over at Dora who was nodding grimly, approvingly if he had to guess. Maybe that meant all his girls would start working in a team now.

'Good. Now let's get the fuck out of here. This place sucks the life out of you.'

Becky and Dora laughed hollowly but James knew better. Becky Fowler would be crying herself to sleep tonight.

Dora would probably go home and hug her parents to death. She wouldn't be sleeping tonight though.

They walked the rest of the way in silence until the sound of Alastor raging and ranting broke the silence.

Hestia and Kendra were both frogmarching the old man towards the exit and the veteran Auror was not in the slightest bit pleased with it.

'Let me go! I will wring his fucking traitorous neck! That piece of shit doesn't deserve to fucking gulp down oxygen regardless of where! If you ever get out I'll fucking kill you!' The last part was shouted back down the corridor where he'd come.

Hestia gave James a long suffering look and he sighed.

'Rookwood?'

Hestia nodded. 'Yeah, they had it out and we had to pull Moody back before he killed the man. We got some answers from the others, even if they didn't mean to. Rosier tried to throttle Moody through the bars.'

'Piece of shit just brought on his fucking death even quicker, bastard looked older than my balls. He'll drop soon. Then he can join his precious boy.' Moody shrugged in the hold the girls had him in with a snarl. 'Let go of me girl, I'm fine.'

Kendra looked over at James for approval and at his nod, she let the senior Auror go.

'Finally, honestly, like they've never seen a man react to a fucking traitorous piece of shit before. Have you got any damn chocolate left?' Moody snapped at James.

He tossed a chunk at the old man and then passed out the remainder to the three girls without any and took some for himself.

'That's fucking better,' Moody snarled through a mouthful of chocolate. 'This fucking place boy, if they ever try to throw me in here, kill me first.'

As a group they entered the lift, silently munching on chocolate as the chamber lowered down to the lesser security wings and barracks.

The quicker they got back on the mainland the better he'd feel. The chocolate was doing a good job of beating back the dread the Dementors brought on.

Shame it wasn't doing anything for the ice coating the bottom of his spine.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks to annagroups0 for the correction of my Greek! I've fixed it now.**


	4. The Hangman

Chapter Four

 **The Hangman**

* * *

His head fell forward, focusing on nothing but the sound of tap water filling a glass. His arms stretched out so his hands were either side of the kitchen sink.

Smooth linoleum over wooden countertop cooled his skin in the otherwise steamy August night.

Merlin, he'd forgotten how hot the house could get without active cooling wards working through the old mansion. With the windows closed he was going to have to find a way to reactivate those wards sharpish. His bedroom was a sauna without them.

James pressed the full glass of water against his forehead and sighed contently as gloriously icy cold spread over his temple. Finally he was able to think about something other than the river of sweat pouring down his chest and pooling at the hem of his boxers.

Bellatrix's screaming face swam across his brain, Rabastan's reaching fingers impotently running down his robes. Barty's mad ravings hissing in his ears.

 _Blood traitors, Mudbloods and Mudblood sympathisers alike. He is coming and we will paint the world red with their blood!_

He drained the glass, crisp cold water slipping down his parched desert of a throat. Dolohov's obsessed eyes stared back at him as he looked out the window and he turned away.

This was fucking stupid. The nightmares were just the after effects of repeated visits to Azkaban recently. Nothing more.

Those sick and decrepit monsters were stuck on an island prison with things that actively drove them insane on a daily basis. They weren't any kind of threat. It was probably just because they had marched through the Dementors' favourite feeding ground.

Yeah, the saturation of their effect coupled with terrorists shouting venom at him was bound to do a number on him for at least a week. It'd only been two days, he just need to get through the worst.

Maybe he should eat more chocolate?

 _He's coming_

It was nothing. The mad ravings of a mentally deranged, half-dead psychopath. Voldemort wasn't going to be making such a blatant move as a mass breakout of Azkaban. Not when Harry had got away alive.

The connotations of a Portkey that would take Harry away and return ... someone ... to the middle of Hogwarts had not been lost on James or Amelia.A surprise attack or something more insidious had been thwarted just by Harry surviving.

Whatever Voldemort's plans had been, he would have to adapt now. That didn't stop the dark corners of his mind asking horrifying questions about the original plan.

He filled and drained another glass of water. Harry's limp body in his arms, the absolute horror and fear of a small boy staring out of a teenager's face haunted James' nightmares.

Shaking his head James slammed the glass down on the countertop.

Harry was fine. He was safe and protected. On an island in the middle of the Mediterranean where it would take either a Portkey across multiple foreign borders or multiple Apparations to get there if Harry was attacked.

Stupid. Shouldn't have let Harry get that far away from him. He should have locked Harry in the mansion. Let their family magic charge the wards twice as quickly and never leave. Harry would have railed against him, probably hated him and called him a coward but he would have been safe. For as long as he could be.

Let the world sort itself out and for once leave his family out of Voldemort and Dumbledore's bloody chess game.

The Potters had always answered the call when they had been needed. His father had put up money, James had been all but conscripted into the first war and now Harry was gearing up to be not only a soldier but a fucking figurehead of the second one.

They'd done their bit. It wasn't fair and every single day he kicked himself for not stopping Harry from leaving. James could have quit the Aurors and spent all his time training Harry for the inevitable moment Voldemort came to them.

Because he would.

The only reason they weren't holed up in some bolthole in the middle of the Swiss Alps was because eventually … Voldemort would come for Harry, and the truly sobering realisation that James couldn't stop that from happening, had been like a rock in his gut since June.

 _He is coming!_

James sunk down onto the kitchen tile, his sweaty back rubbing against the smoothed wooden cabinet.

Hogwarts and here. They were the only safe places and given the rumblings coming from Fudge's office lately, even Hogwarts's security was coming into question.

Sirius' position as the new Defence professor wasn't entirely for James' good after all. Dumbledore had been growing desperate for a teacher and if he hadn't found one … if what Amelia had told him was true … the Ministry had been more than willing to supply it's own recommendations.

Trying to pull Voldemort into the open had weakened Dumbledore's power base. Made him less formidable and made Fudge appear competent. Sending Harry to Hogwarts was sounding more and more dangerous than ever before.

Even with Sirius and Aurora there.

'James?' a soft whisper came as a lit wand entered through the kitchen door. 'Where are you?'

Looking up, Aurora Sinistra' beautiful concerned face was lost behind the mussed up tresses of long black hair. Sweat coated her skin and stained her tank top and shorts where they stuck to her. She stared around the kitchen, squinting in the light from her wand.

A surge of relief filled him as he put down his wand, not even aware he'd drawn it until she looked straight at him. Dark eyes filled with confusion and the smallest trace of fear.

'Are you okay?' she asked, lowering her wand, walking towards him. Dropping down so their faces were level as she reached his side. 'I woke up and you weren't there.'

'Sorry, woke up, needed water.' James turned away from her as her expression her face morphed from confusion to concern. 'Nightmare.'

'Another one?' Aurora's fingers swept his fringe to the side and cupped his cheek, pleasant warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the heat. 'Azkaban?'

He nodded and his fingers reached up to grab at hers. 'Yeah. Sorry, did I wake you?'

Aurora pulled his face towards hers and smiled softly before kissing his forehead. 'No, the heat woke me. Any idea when those cooling wards are gonna kick in?'

James shrugged and allowed himself to revel in her touch. Azkaban's lingering effects dulling the longer her skin touched his.

Her fingers scratched at his scalp as she eased against his side, joining him on the floor and letting her body meld against him, completely uncaring of the exceptional heat they were making.

'Maybe Remus should focus on that for the next couple hours?' Aurora murmured into his arm. 'Or we could just kip in the kitchen, the tile is nice and cold.'

'I'll look into it in the morning.' James wrapped his arm around her and sighed as she nestled in. 'When do you have to be back at Hogwarts?'

Aurora's fingers ran across his chest, playing with his chest hair as she shrugged against him. 'Not for another couple weeks. I have all my lesson plans prepared and I don't have any marking until I get the summer assignments back. Is there anything else I can do around the house to help? As much as I enjoy lazing around a mansion I could do with something to keep me busy.'

'Go grab my son and drag him back here?' James said, only half-jokingly.

Aurora frowned and her hand stopped moving over his chest. 'He's fine where he is James. You have other things to take care of and it'll do the both of you some good to be apart.'

James took his arm from around her and went to stand. 'I'm tired, let's go back to bed.'

She pushed him back down against the cabinet with one hand and held him there. 'Don't get angry,' she said calmly, her fingers moving over his skin soothingly. 'I know you mean well and you're only trying to protect him. But he's still a teenager James. He needs some time to breathe and remember that he's human. Besides, that last falling out you had before he left must still be bothering him.'

'We didn't fall out.' James looked at her, frowning.

'No, you didn't argue, there's a difference,' Aurora said as she shifted into a more comfortable position. 'You wouldn't listen to him and that's got to have frustrated him.'

'He doesn't know what Dumbledore is like,' James said sharply. 'He's too young to see past the grandfather image the old bastard pulls off so well.'

'I'm not sure you're right there,' Aurora said, her voice never raising. 'Yes, Harry is young but he's not as oblivious as you think when it comes to the Headmaster. He definitely approaches the man with more caution than most students. You're not giving him enough credit and he knows it. So he's going to be less up for listening to reason when he thinks you don't care what he thinks. Which is sort of true and you know it,' she said quickly as he went to interrupt her. 'You're not listening to him. Because he's your kid and you're scared.'

'But …'

'No,' Aurora interrupted. 'I saw what happened to you when he went missing James. Don't tell me your wanting to lock him away isn't because you're terrified that'll happen again.'

'I'm just trying to keep him safe while I prepare him for what's coming.'

'Yeah,' Aurora said slowly. 'And is it worth keeping him alive if it means he's more a soldier than a boy when you're done?'

James scowled at her and tried to pull away, only to find himself locked in place by her hand on his chest. 'Let me go Aurora. You don't know what you're talking about.'

'Right. Because my whole career doesn't revolve around trying to understand and reach children.'

James grimaced at her, the raised eyebrow daring him to contradict her. 'It's different. This isn't dealing with some normal problem, Harry's not being bullied or struggling with school work. He'll die if he's not prepared.'

Aurora's hand left his chest. He missed her touch immediately. 'The stakes are bigger but the important stuff is still the same James. It's all well and good preparing Harry for the war, I get that. You _need_ to do that. But he's more than a wand arm. He needs time to be a kid. To unwind and just relax. Otherwise he's going to have no kind of life to live for anyway.'

'He'd be alive at least,' James said, his eyes singling out the fridge directly opposite him.

'Yes, but you'll lose him all the same,' she said softly. She pushed her hair back into a ponytail and shook her head. 'He's already pulling away from things. Spending more time on his own when he can … it's what kids who've got problems at home do. I've seen it. He'll feel isolated the more you, and everyone around him, pressures him that it'll have the opposite reaction and he'll get reckless. If kids with everyday problems rebel, Harry might just be worse. The world is on his shoulders and not figuratively speaking. He knows to train, everyone he loves will be telling him to train, how about you just tell him to be a kid?'

'It's not as simple as letting him just be a kid,' James said slowly. Grounding out the words. 'Harry barely got out of his last encounter with Voldemort alive. If he finds himself unprepared the next time Voldemort finds him Harry will die. There is a serious skill and power difference between the two of them that needs to be bridged.'

'Harry isn't going to become the next Merlin because you have him doing five hours of training every day James,' Aurora said calmly. She shifted away from him and rested against a cupboard and turned to face him properly. 'If you don't give him time to rest and just do stupid teenager stuff like play Quidditch or hang out with his friends or even just go for a walk, he's going to snap. There's a reason we only give out a certain amount of homework a week, you've got to let kids be kids. They burn out otherwise.'

Running his fingers along the tile James savoured the cool surface under his fingertips and watched as his girlfriend stared at him, waiting for a response.

She didn't get it. Of course she didn't get it. This wasn't a run of the mill sort of problem. Aurora was a hell of a teacher and she loved her job and her students but this wasn't about a teacher/student thing.

Harry had to be trained up. James would kill to let Harry just be a kid but it wasn't possible. Hadn't ever really been possible. Not since Harry's first confrontation with Voldemort. _As a baby._

His son had a target on his back and he would do until Voldemort was dealt with. While James didn't put any stock in the prophecy, that it had to be Harry who killed the Dark Lord, Voldemort and frustratingly so did Dumbledore.

James had no intention of letting Harry duel Voldemort to the death if it could be avoided. He'd rather personally do it himself with the help of a few other people. That was what he was really hoping for. James, Sirius and Remus would put the Dark Lord down once they'd found and destroyed the rest of his Horcruxes. Because he had to have more.

But that didn't mean that other people or Voldemort himself wouldn't come for the Boy-Who-Lived. James had a duty as his father to make sure Harry could not only handle himself in a fight but come out the winner. Against witches and wizards who'd been killing people since before Harry was even born.

If that meant Harry had to miss out on a few teenaged experiences like girls, sports and dossing around doing nothing … then Harry could hate him for the rest of his very long life and James would happily welcome that. Because at least then he'd live.

'James?' Aurora asked

'He has to be trained Aurora,' James said to the floor. 'There's no two ways about it.'

There was a long silence before Aurora stood and sighed. 'Yes. Just keep in mind that you're raising a boy, not a machine.'

He looked up at her, her hand outstretched waiting to be grabbed. James took it and with her help, stood on slightly stiff legs.

'Voldemort hasn't given us much of a choice,' James said as he looked out into the darkness surrounding the mansion.

'If you're letting Voldemort effect how you raise your son James,' Aurora said as she walked back towards the hallway and stairs. **'** Then he's already won.'

* * *

The singe of magic flying by his face almost made Harry shout in surprise.

Power thrummed down his arm as he lifted his wand arm and shouted. 'Reducto!'

The next spell came barrelling towards him, ducking under it nearly made Harry have to combat roll.

His breath caught in his throat as his brain screamed bloody murder, the urge to run and the urge to fight at war within his brain as he tried to think of spells to throw at his attacker.

A swirl of his wand and the ground around his feet crumbled and dusty earth rose in a hoop. It settled at chin level and with little more than a thought they turned to missiles and flew towards the young man shouting out his next hex.

He had to close the gap. Too far out.

 _Get in your attacker's face Harry, make him have to punch, kick or bite. Make him fight like a Muggle. He won't expect it._

Stepping forward, Harry had to quickly pivot as a red bolt of magic splashed across the ground he was about to put his foot. It shone and turned almost translucent.

 _Watch your footing!_

Stamping down, Harry aimed his wand and growled out his attack. 'Flogello!'

Beads of grey light flew from Harry's wand and wrapped around the other boy's wrist, following Harry's eyes on instinct, pulling him down to the dirt surface with a sickening crunch and a groan heard around the stadium.

'Ooo!' The commentator said in a sympathetic tone. 'Potter is taking no prisoners in his duel with the newbie from Estonia, Andres Rebane. That was a wicked Whipping Charm, ingeniously used though.'

'Rebane is not out just yet!' The resounding voice of Philopus Sotir called. 'Look! He is getting up. Potter may have a challenger worthy of his skill in this one ladies and gentlemen!'

The fifteen year old wizard stood with a curious, calculating look. The breath which Harry had managed to recapture, escaping him again as the boy raised his wand arm again.

Why didn't he just stay down damn it?

 _Incapacitate your opponent first, break an arm, preferably the wand arm … or their legs. If you limit their movements you are one step closer to winning._

The boy's spell came directly for Harry's forehead, a dark blue bolt that soared over his head as he lurched forwards.

'Flogello!' Harry murmured as the grey whip reached out again, this time around Rebane's left ankle. A mental tug and the teenager went arse over apex and crashed into the ground on his back.

Until he turned the move into a backwards roll and came up firing spells like gunfire. A rainbow of colour shot towards him and Harry strafed left, narrowly dodging each spell, his breathing hitching over and over again as each one missed him by millimetres.

A crack rang through the air as a yellow spell hit Harry as he was mid pivot sending him flying backwards, both feet off the ground as his arms reached out before him. He fell like he'd been punched in the gut by a troll.

He collapsed on the floor like a sack of potatoes and groaned as pain wracked his body. Especially in his ribs.

Must've been a rib breaker, not technically Dark magic but the Estonian hadn't learnt that one in a school.

Merlin, it hurt. He clutched at his ribs and hissed as glowered up at the smirking teen, his back turned to Harry as he riled up the crowd.

A screaming bunch of banshees baying for blood. Like they were watching two gladiators fight instead of wizarding boys duel.

They didn't care that Harry was on the floor, battered and bruised with no help coming. They just cared that they got some decent action.

Fuck it hurt to breathe. He had to end this quick.

 _Get up. Never give in Harry. Potter's don't give in._

'Potter is down!' Sotir shouted. 'And Rebane is gearing up the crowd. It seems this young man from the Eastern Europe is looking to make a name for himself today! He smells blood in the water around a veteran.'

They wanted blood? Harry would damn well give them blood.

The pain racked through him as he forced himself to stand, the cheering of crowd like thunderclaps in his ears as they roared their approval that, yes, he still had more to give.

He always had more to give.

His wand flew out and with it another grey whip. It raced towards the showboating bastard's neck, the sound of his own blood pumping as Harry's eyes never left the turned form of his opponent.

The grey rope slipped around the arrogant prick's throat and tightened.

See what you think of this you smug son of a bitch.

 _Harry, no!_

The rope dissipated before it could properly tighten and Rebane turned with a panicked look in his face just in time to see Harry's wand arm drop. The realisation of what Harry was about to do to him shining in his eyes.

The contents of Harry's stomach rose in his throat.

His wand snapped out as Rebane went to move. A red bolt of magic smacking the other boy down and out cold as Harry collapsed to his knees and vomited, his wand clattering to the ground, red magic still emanating from the tip.

His retches the only sound in the deathly silent stadium.

Then the cheering started.

* * *

Darkness surrounded him, blurry darkness, his vision swimming with Rebane's face turning blue and then draining of colour as his desperate fingers scraped at his neck until it bled, still failing to unhook the grey rope coming from Harry's wand.

The indentations where his wand dug into his skin were throbbing angrily, the heat of his magic pulsing against his palm.

He straightened out his fingers, waggling them but to no avail. His breathing was shaky, his teeth rattled in his skull and his hand would not stop pulsing with dangerous power.

It was also like the most severe case of pins and needles he could possibly imagine, numbing and sharp all at the same time. The longer the sensation lasted, his wand still aimed at Rebane's drained face, the quicker his heart rate and breathing got.

He gripped at his wand arm's wrist, squeezing it hard, using the bend of his thumb and fingers on either side to halt the feeling, at the very least to stop the spell.

Willing the magic away, envisioning the grey rope around the boy's neck gone, his face full of colour as he gulped down air. That he stopped doing this before he … before he …

Stop, stop, _stop._

The rope uncurled and the magic slipped from his palm, leaving him cold and relieved, his aching arm dropping, pulled into himself as he coiled around it, panting and biting back sobs.

The clunk of something hitting the ground hard snapped his head back up, his still blurry vision turning wherever he was into a panic inducing nightmare.

Where had Rebane gone? Where was his body? He'd been right there, he could've sworn …

An evil cackle ran through his mind, a dark, high pitched sound that only one thing had ever made. He twisted in place, blurry vision nearly sending him toppling over as the lack of his wand in his hand came through.

No throbbing indents on his fingers …

The laughter repeated, louder this time.

'Accio,' Harry gasped, magic resurging in his palm, pins and needles returning lightly, as his wand and glasses flew into his outstretched hand. No rush of relief came as the charmed wood hit his skin.

Forcing his glasses onto his face, the room came into sharp focus, the thrum of power spreading up his wand arm as he turned in bed and aimed his wand at …

Nothing.

Nothing at all. No snake faced man standing by his window. No dead body on the floor where Rebane _had_ been standing. There was no threat, just heaps of ornaments and lamps on the floor. His suitcase was tipped over by the far corner, dirty clothes made a semi-circle around his hotel provided wash basket but there was nothing out of place.

The clunk must have been an ornament falling off the shelf. The wind maybe?

His window _was_ open.

Harry collapsed forward, his wand dropping onto the covers pooled around his ankles soundlessly, warmth filling the room again as the night air slid across his bare back.

He cradled his head and rested against his bent knees.

Just another nightmare.

Rebane wasn't here, Harry hadn't nearly killed him.

 _Again_ , a hissing voice reminded him from the darkness, making him whip around in bed once more frantically, wand forgotten between his bucking legs.

Nothing. _He_ wasn't here. Couldn't be here. Voldemort was still recovering and plotting in the United Kingdom. Literally hundreds of miles away if not a thousand. All his worst Death Eaters just as far away. Barty Crouch Jr was in Azkaban too, on a miserable rock in the middle of the North Sea surrounded by the personification of nightmare fuel.

Whatever his dad had done when he'd brought the Alastor imposter in had also left him completely insane and almost entirely incapable. That's what he'd overheard during James and Sirius' mirror chat the other night at least.

They were safe. No need for all the freaking out he was doing. It was bollocks he didn't have any reason for doing. He didn't need to protect anyone on the island. Daphne was coming along nicely in her own training, she'd flounced her two opponents this week whereas he'd struggling to beat his. Sirius, Ophelia and Nick were all fully trained and more than capable of looking after themselves and Astoria.

Hell this was a literal island filled to the brim with skilled duellists.

 _None can stand up to my power._ Voldemort's cold voice filled his head again, hissing like a damn snake. _Not even your precious Mudblood mother could stand against me._

'Shut up,' Harry hissed. He rapped his temple with his knuckles. 'You're not him, he's not in my head. You are just my own brain fucking with me.'

 _You sound so certain,_ the voice in his head teased. _What if you're wrong?'_

'I said. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.' Harry punctuated each word with another rap against his temple.

 _How can anyone you love be safe if I can see through your eyes?_ Voldemort asked, his voice lowly fading away until only the raspy hiss was left.

Harry sighed, finally left in peace he hoped, as he looked over at his alarm clock

Twenty past ten. He'd only been asleep for four hours.

His stomach rumbled as he processed that, patting himself with a pained frown as his stomach groaned again.

The hotel dining room would be closed for the night now as well.

'Shit,' he grumbled as he staggered his way out of his sheets, leaving a stirred mess on the bed. He scooped up his wand and his holster from the mix, slapping the leather against his wrist without thinking his wand slipping into the waiting slot on habit, his fingers fastening the straps securely as he moved.

Maybe he could raid Tori's crisps and chocolate stash? She wouldn't mind, she always had plenty.

Ever since Hermione had introduced them all to Pringles in first year the curved crisps had become a group favourite. Astoria had been particularly fond of them and was hooked from the first bite.

Once you pop, you can't stop had probably never run truer than with the kid.

She never went anywhere for a long period without a healthy supply. Not to mention her vast hoard of Honeydukes chocolate. It must be her favourite place she wasn't allowed to visit until September.

The owners didn't know what was coming for them during Astoria's first Hogsmeade visit this year. Her third year was going to be a chocolate filled heaven.

He pushed open the bedroom door, still clutching his gut, the warm leather against his skin a little comforting as each spasm of hunger wracked through him.

Muffled voices came from down the hall, lights all off except for the dull splash of yellow light against the end wall. It reminded him of the time he'd stayed over at Sirius' uncle Alphard's house after the old man's wake.

The adults had been downstairs in the deceased's living room and they'd been a sort of respectful quiet throughout the house.

This time it was more muted, the talking coming to an unnatural stop as he turned the corner into the open plan living area.

'Y'alright?' Sirius asked from his recliner, his face a practiced calm that wasn't fooling bloody anyone. 'Didn't wake you did we?'

Harry shook his head and clutched at his stomach again. 'M'fine.'

Daphne caught his eyes as he took in her flowing dress and the worried frown on her beautiful face- a total contrast to the earlier sight of her dressed in battle robes, sporting a brilliant smile.

'Ow,' he grimaced as he tripped over Astoria's legs, the skinny thirteen year old remaining resolutely still spread across the carpet. 'You make an excellent step youth.'

She stuck her tongue out at him and grinned. 'Not my fault you're too decrepit to walk properly fogey.'

He'd normally kick her playfully but honestly … it was just nice that _one_ of them wasn't looking at him like he was about to collapse into tiny pieces before them. It made not doing that a whole lot harder.

'Are you hungry Harry?' Mrs Greengrass asked with a concerned frown. The perfect mum frown, worried but not blaming you for not looking after yourself. Though maybe a little. 'We plated you up some food from the buffet downstairs.'

Her wand rose, waist length, coppery brown hair falling elegantly over her arm, and flicked in the direction of the kitchen the suite was provided with. Two plates of food, piled high enough for three people to feast on them for a day, hovered through the archway and lowered onto the side table by Harry and Daphne's sofa.

In that moment Harry could have given Lady Greengrass the biggest hug of his life and named his first born after her. Boy or girl. Ophelia Dalia Potter. It was unisex!

If he lived long enough to have children that was.

Shaking that thought out of his head, Harry tried to smile. He managed a grimace that could pass for a half-smile. 'Thanks Ophelia, I'm starving.'

He went to get up but Daphne stopped him gently, a strained smile on her face as she rose from the sofa, piling food onto a separate stack of small plates that had clearly been there in anticipation of him waking up hungry.

Nick and Ophelia were both watching him, Sirius still pretending he was relaxing in a recliner too, and he felt a stab of guilt for worrying them. He wasn't sure just how much they'd realised about today. They'd certainly seen him cast the spell that was going to strangle an innocent, if not smarmy, teenager.

Rebane's colourless face filled his vision, the cruel laughter returning lowly.

He ignored the stares and accepted the food, as many of his favourites as they could find by the looks of it, with a bigger smile. Daphne returned the gesture and sat down, nestling into his side.

It wasn't the worst thing ever.

'So now Harry's not sleeping …' Astoria said from her place on the ground, an affronted frown marring her face. 'Can we play a game?'

The room rested into unsteady tension. The adults around them watching Harry, or pretending not to watch in Sirius' case, until the teenager snorted.

Bless Astoria for always knowing how to break tense situations … even if she didn't realise what she had done. Best girlfriend's little sister a boyfriend could ask for.

'Did you have something in mind youth?'

The brunette, having inherited her mother's hair colour, nodded sharply as she lifted herself up onto crossed legs, cargo shorts ending where pale skinny shins started.

'I'm always a fan of kicking your arse at poker …' Astoria said with a wry grin that was just like her sister's. She was like a mix of both her parents and her sister, it was weird but you could never not recognise Astoria as a Greengrass. 'Oh, sorry,' she said sheepishly at her glaring mother. 'Kicking your _butt_ at poker … but as you brought nothing to bet with-'

'Cus we don't gorge on chocolate like small children anymore,' Daphne teased her sister with a needling tone.

It only served to earn her a sardonic smile from the youngest Greengrass, about as much sweetness there as an old lemon.

'Yeah, cus you're _so_ mature,' Astoria replied as she rested back against the sofa, between her parents' legs. 'Like you didn't have a picture of Harry smiling at you in your purse from first year on-ow! Dad!'

Nick reared back up, patted his daughter on the head gently, her hand lifted to her recently flicked earlobe. 'Don't tease your sister about fancying her boyfriend. What game do you want to play?'

The brunette stuck her tongue out at her father and shrugged. 'We could play Celebrity?'

'What's that?' Sirius asked, sipping a beer Harry hadn't notice he had. 'Do we pretend to be famous people? I can't pretend to be me can I?'

'A drunken layabout who can't hold down a woman you mean?' Ophelia said with a raised eyebrow, lifting her wine glass to her lips. 'No, there are people far more famous for that than you. It'd be too hard to guess.'

'You wound me Ophelia,' Sirius said hand over his heart, winking down at a smirking Astoria. 'Go on sproglet, tell us about this game.'

Astoria nodded and proceeded to spell out the rules of the game a Muggle-born friend of hers had introduced her to when she'd gone to stay with them before the trip to the island. The girl's father had been quite good at it apparently.

The premise was rather simple. Everyone wrote down three names of famous people from history or modern culture. Madonna, Albert Einstein and … fucking brat had beamed at him when she said … Harry Potter, were the examples that Rosie Kerr, Astoria's Muggle-born Hufflepuff friend, had used.

Harry tried not to throw something at the girl when she mentioned how she'd written down his name and then had to explain some of his exploits to the stunned Mr and Dr Kerr. Apparently, he was _fascinating_.

'What do her parents do again Story?' Nick asked curiously. 'You said Dr Kerr was a … psychologist, wasn't it? That's a Healer who focuses on the mind yeah?'

Astoria had just nodded and Harry tried not to worry too much about what a psychologist had said about his exploits. Like he needed therapists wondering about him.

After a thorough explanation, Harry figured that it was much like a timed version of twenty questions. Except with a paper on your forehead and a bowl full of famous names. Whoever guessed the most celebrities at the end, won.

Pens and paper were quickly passed around, a bowl conjured by the swish of Ophelia's wand and a mini hourglass as well. Once everyone had written down their three names, the game had begun. Harry chose Godric Gryffindor, James Bond and Jackie Chan, who _had_ to be a wizard if any of Hermione's dad's movies were something to judge by.

It didn't take long for the game to fall into madness.

Harry hadn't heard of half the people being thrown out but he had to admit it was fun all the same. Some of it was just the look of absolute confusion on Sirius and Nick's faces as the three girls kept naming famous Muggles from Muggle films. Specifically, those dreaded abominations that he wouldn't, on pain of death, admit to enjoying … Romantic comedies.

He absolutely _refused_ to acknowledge Daphne's knowing smile when Ophelia claimed that the film with the dancing and the bad guy was a good one.

They knew it was the girls too, because no one had handwriting as girlish as Daphne and Ophelia. No one had handwriting as awful as Astoria either.

Said cheater quickly racked up points, she'd guessed all three of Harry's one's easily. Knowing her, she'd been hunting them out specifically. When Ophelia pulled out one piece of paper and slammed it against her forehead, it stumped them all, successfully halting the game and bringing their laughter to an end.

'Erm …' Daphne said, perching forwards so she could try and read the name on the paper against her mum's head. 'Daddy?'

Nick peered at it too and drew a blank expression that proved none of them were going to be able to help with this one.

Ophelia's beautiful face scrunched up into a mess as she tried desperately to transfer the writing on the paper into her brain by telepathy or something.

 _You could ask for my help?_ Voldemort's voice whispered, sending a sick sensation to Harry's stomach as Nick smacked his forehead.

'Oh! It's that German alchemist you read that book on last month!' Nick said, patting his wife on the thigh eagerly with both hands. 'Oh bugger, come on girls, help me out here, what's he look like?'

'The guy who everyone said changed the face of potions in western Europe?' Astoria said, almost stumping the lot of them into silence. Harry forgot how bright the girl was sometimes. 'Introduced the use of Pewter cauldrons on the grand scale?'

'George Kessel?' Ophelia said uncertainly, looking from her husband to her daughter.

'Yes!' Astoria shouted, big grin on her face. A bell going off to tell them the hourglass had emptied. 'And times up!'

Ophelia put her two pieces of paper down and shook her head ruefully. 'Trust me to get my own one, I'm sorry darling, I should have put down the man who wrote those books you like.' Ophelia leant into her husband and kissed him gently. 'It would have been fairer wouldn't it?'

The blond man chuckled and took the bowl off his wife as she nestled into his side, ignoring the sound of retching from their youngest daughter as Harry tried not to flinch at Daphne mirroring her mum and leaning against him.

The rest of the night went quite smoothly. Voldemort's voice didn't re-emerge in his head until well into the early hours of the night. After the adults had gotten drunk enough to be slurring and before the kisses between Nick and Ophelia turned a lot less chaste.

Not that any of the girls noticed. Daphne had conked out against him an hour ago and Astoria had dragged herself to bed with a muffled 'night.'

It was just him, Sirius and the affectionate Mr and Mrs Greengrass. Who were sat snuggling on the bigger sofa.

 _By your hand, they will all die._ The hissing sent daggers of cold down his spine.

'Shut the fuck up' _,_ Harry whispered under his breath.

 _Your power grows stronger. Much like mine._

'I'm nothing like you,' he murmured. 'I'm not a monster.'

The deathly pale face of Rebane, a grey rope coiled round his neck and a sinister laugh were his reply.

The dead face morphed into his own, eyes opening to reveal the red slits. His face laughed at him, cruel high laughs just like _his_.

'I'm nothing like him.' Harrytold himself with more conviction than he felt. He grimaced as a pins and needles sensation stabbed into his palms yet again. 'Nothing.'

The face in his mind's eye changed again. The hard features of his own laughing face melted into those of Voldemort's and yet still similar to his own. His pale skin shifted, growing deathly white before shedding away- dead scales making way for new ones. The serpentine hissing from the half-Voldemort, half-Harry face turned his blood to ice.

 _Tomorrow Harry Potter._


	5. Vanquishing the Valkyrie

Chapter Five

 **Vanquishing the Valkyrie**

* * *

The packed stadium rocked with noise.

Cheering fans egging on their favourite duellists, the two girls drawing to the middle of the platform, confidence swimming from both of them.

From his place by the sidelines Harry sweated through his robes, something that had nothing to do with the extreme heat they were currently all sat under.

Sissel Gertson had made it to the semi-finals. She was duelling Daphne and the dream he'd had on his first night here was coming true. Daphne was even wearing the same robes and blew him a kiss as she'd ascended the steps to the platform.

Hell, even the referee had been the same black woman from his nightmare, teeth and all. It was all coming true. What if it hadn't been a dream but a premonition? Like the one he'd had of Voldemort, Wormtail, and Crouch plotting his return.

 _Couldn't_ be possible. He wasn't a Seer and the Death Eaters and Voldemort didn't know Harry was here. Even if they did, they had other things to do than hunt him down.

An open attack like the one from his dream would force Voldemort into the light, something he would want to avoid for as long as possible. Short of him power-slapping Fudge across the face, there was no way in hell his return would be announced.

Besides, he'd want to make a big public event of killing Harry. It'd be the perfect way to re-enter the wizarding world. Carrying Harry Potter's corpse, The Boy-Who-Lived, like a trophy as he reignited his war.

So Harry's nightmare couldn't come true. The only danger anyone was in was if some of the spells went past the protective barriers. Even then, that was highly unlikely.

'It hadn't been real,' he told himself, muttering under his breath as he shook his leg. 'It was only a dream.'

 _Are you sure?_ Voldemort's voice crept into his brain.

Harry shook his head, ignoring the odd look Sirius gave him from the stands. Eyes on Daphne as she dropped into an almost perfect ready stance.

 _I'll kill her last... Before your very eyes..._

'You're not real,' he hissed viciously. 'So fuck off.'

An evil cackle filled his head as Daphne dodged the more experienced, Norwegian witch's opening curse.

The magic rippled against the barrier ward and when the surface cleared, Daphne was pressing her advantage. The pale blonde hair of Sissel Gertson, swinging wildly as she was scooped off her feet and sent barrelling away.

 _Maybe I'll keep her._ Voldemort's voice cold and calculating, a sick amusement creeping into the words.

'If you touch her,' Harry spat, much louder than he'd meant to. 'I'll fucking kill you.'

He shook his head, dismissing the concerned looks of the waiting duellists sat nearby.

 _For her,_ the voice teased again. _You'll do my bidding._

The voice hissed into laughter as horrible images flashed through his brain.

Of him turning his wand on innocent people- their screaming faces burned into his mind as green light lit up his vision. All the while blood curdling laughter ripped through his soul, his own mouth turning into an insane grin as he murdered and tortured for _him._

'No.' Harry rapped his knuckles against his forehead until the laughter, which had been damn near constant, faded away.

That wouldn't be his future, he would never become _that._

With a shake of his head, he turned his focus back to Daphne and Gertson, who was reclaiming control of the match after a rocky start.

'I tell you Philopus,' Raphael's voice came over the roar of the crowd. 'I think we may have an upset on our hands. This English witch may just topple a titan of a competitor! The Valkyrie may have met her match!'

Harry clung to the commentators, as inane as they were, to keep his mind at bay and from fucking with him.

Daphne batted away Gertson's spell, a sickle shaped blue curse that Harry didn't recognise and conjured ropes from the air to fire at her opponent.

His nightmare surged into his mind again as the ropes wrapped around Gertson's arm.

'Oh a clever move!' Philopus called out in giddy joy. 'I believe you may be right Raphael, Miss Daphne Greengrass may be just the mix up we need! But she mustn't get cocky, our Valkyrie is no novice.'

Gertson swapped her wand into her free hand and sliced up the ropes, the pieces dropping to the floor like rock.

With a swirl of her wand the ropes lifted back up. A stab later they were hard as granite and the Norwegian witch shot them back at Daphne, who bent over backwards to dodge them.

Gertson dipped her wand and a piece of granite rope changed course, slamming into Daphne's left shin with a splatter of blood.

Daphne screamed, her cry of pain dwarfed by the crowd but he heard it clear as day. Before he could stop himself, Harry found himself on his feet, wand in hand.

She glanced over at him and with gritted teeth shook her head, casting a quick splint charm around her injured leg, clutching at her shin in pain.

Gertson didn't react. A duelling veteran, she remained focused on her opponent even as the crowd amped itself up.

Her supporters cheered, growing louder with each passing second that Daphne stayed down.

Their combined voices rang in the rafters of the highest seats, singing songs and chanting her many nicknames. Waving flags depicting her stunning face set in a fierce smile.

'C'mon babe,' Harry urged her, even though he knew Daphne couldn't hear him. 'Get up.'

Daphne winced, attempting to wink at him as she shifted on her back, the splint helping to relieve the pressure on her leg.

'Gertson is sensing the end Philopus,' Raphael shouted over Gertson's supporters who'd begun to chant her name. 'The only question now is will she take her time, reminding us all why she is a two time champ? Or will she take out her opponent quickly in case the devious Englishwoman has something up her sleeve?'

'Never count out a Brit,' Philopus said with a chuckle. 'They are stubborn old dogs of people. My money's still on our young challenger. Daphne the Destroyer, I think will be a good name when she sends the Northerner back to her fjords!'

A booming laugh accompanied his rally cry and Harry couldn't resist the slight smile that came when Daphne all but beamed. Her fans picked up the rallying cry and soon their collective voices demanded that she _Destroy her!_

She really was gorgeous when she was determined.

Harry retook his seat as Daphne struggled to her feet, waving off the ref who was approaching, wand out and ready to call quits if Daphne couldn't continue.

He joined in the cheering as Daphne levelled her wand at the Norwegian witch, who still hadn't moved. There was no outward sign of it but he knew what the witch was thinking. It was the same thought running through everyone's mind.

An injury to the leg usually meant a loss. Only a truly skilled veteran could win at this point.

Unfortunately for the Norwegian witch, they didn't call Daphne "The Destroyer" for nothing.

So she'd broken Daphne's leg… so what?

Daphne Greengrass was about to break the Scandinavian's track record.

'Bombarda,' Daphne said, her arm vibrating in position as she ground out the words. 'Maxima!'

'Dios mio!' Raphael shouted as a force of energy shot out of Daphne's wand, charging towards her opponent.

The taller witch barely had enough time to blink before the powerful spell launched her off her feet and slammed her into the barrier, five feet away from the platform edge.

All at once, Harry cheered. His arms shooting upwards as he ran to the barrier, just as Daphne collapsed to her knees, wincing as she grabbed her bloody shin.

'Greengrass wins!' The commentators shouted over the tumultuous noise. 'Daphne the Destroyer wins and will advance to the finals!'

The barrier fell and Daphne collapsed forward, her wand skittering towards the edge as she used her hands to support herself.

A cold feeling struck around his stomach as he ran to the edge, getting right into Daphne's space as she crawled closer to him.

'Daph?' he said hurriedly as he got within touching distance. 'Are you okay?'

She nodded, her blonde ponytail bobbing as she threw her arms around him and pressed her lips against his in a pointed kiss.

'Thank you for teaching me that spell,' she whispered, as her body began to tremble.

She fell against him as she slid off the platform into eager arms, his whole body ready and willing to support her weight.

'You looked so scared babe,' she panted as he lowered them down the ground.

'Shush,' he said quietly, studying her shin as she watched him. Her shaking growing with each passing breath.

She smiled at him when he caught her gaze, fingers rubbing against his chest as sweat peppered her brow.

'Don't worry love,' she said with a grimace and a kiss. 'I'm tougher than I look.'

* * *

The first floor lounge of Grimmauld Place had never looked as foreign as it did tonight.

Filled with so many people they'd had to borrow chairs and even stools from the other rooms of the mini-mansion.

James struggled to think of any time that this house had been so full and failed. Perhaps at its peak it may have held balls and large family gatherings but going by the state of it, it hadn't done so in the last century.

Voldemort's initial downfall had dwindled the Black family and no one but Mrs Black had lived here since. Angry, mad and bitter, her pure-blood mania had sealed her isolation. Her only companion, an old and loyal house-elf whose grumblings echoed his old mistress' prejudices. His every other word an insult with an occasional filthy Mudbloods, blood traitors and half-blood mongrels thrown in. All while despairing at the thought of what his old mistress would think of the dishonour to her house.

Sirius may have been disowned by his mother but Orion Black had loved his eldest son more than any of them had expected.

It'd been a bit of a shock when the goblins had sent him a summons to his father's will reading. With Regulus gone and as the first son and heir, Sirius had inherited everything.

Though through a sense of tradition or whether Regulus had pushed for it, they never found out.

Regardless, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, ancestral home to one of England's most notorious families, now belonged to Sirius. As a surprise born out of vindictiveness, the old woman had commissioned a portrait and sealed it against the wall in an attempt to punish her eldest son by claiming the house in death.

James suspected that the years of inbreeding fucked with the woman's head. She clearly hadn't foreseen the Blasting Hex Sirius had aimed at her wall, within moments of stepping foot in the house. The look of satisfaction on Sirius' face as he gave his bitch of a mother the middle finger one last time still hung in his mind.

Naturally, in his continued attempt to piss on her memory, he'd offered up the house as the base of operations for the second Order of the Phoenix. Kreacher, already angry by him destroying the portrait, had since refused to feed them all while cursing Sirius under his breath.

'Where's Albus?' Remus whispered, interrupting his musing. 'We're all here, it's stupid for us to all be here if he's not joining us.'

James looked over his shoulder to his friend and shrugged. 'He is being watched more than anyone. With Harry off the island, the papers and Death Eaters have got to obsess over someone.'

'He'll be here,' Moody grumbled from the wall. 'Last one in, wants to make sure he doesn't have to wait for any lollygaggers and keep us holed up longer than necessary. Not everyone can linger, after all. They might be _missed.'_

Moody was looking at James as he spoke but his magical eye was glued on the one person that everyone was watching out of the corner of their eye.

Severus Snape; their very own Death Eater turncoat and spy.

His old classmate looked even slimier and out of place than ever before. He was here to give a report before the new school year started and then he'd be at the castle per Voldemort and Dumbledore's instructions.

As if sensing he was being talked about, Snape turned to look at the collection of seats that were James, Remus, Tonks, and Moody. His sullen face twisted into a sneer and James had to inwardly groan as Moody mouthed something back at the man.

'Minerva?' Molly Weasley broke through the babble of conversations happening around the room. 'Where is the headmaster?'

Everyone in the room turned to look at the Scotswoman, her own eyes darting towards Dumbledore's empty chair. If he hadn't known any better he'd have sworn that there was a little bit of green in her face.

'Albus will be on his way soon, Molly,' McGonagall said firmly. 'You weren't in the Order last time, this was somewhat of a regular occurrence.'

But only towards the end of war, thought James. Before all his friends had been scattered to the winds: Some hid, others were killed, and a few just disappeared.

In the early days however, Dumbledore had been easy to find and hardly ever late. Which meant that either Minerva was lying or she didn't know where he was. He caught Remus' eyes and knew they were thinking similarly.

'If you are so uncomfortable,' Snape said in a slow drawl. 'Then perhaps you should have stayed at home with your children.'

Molly huffed up, the red of her family's hair beginning to spread to her ears before she was interrupted by another voice.

'Yeah,' Tonks chipped in from behind James. 'Because Molly's got less of a reason to be here than you, Snape.'

The potion master sneered at Tonks, who stared right back with an eyebrow raised. The pithy comeback was coming but it made no difference.

Little boys who couldn't move past schoolyard grudges had no business being in a war, no matter how important old men insisted they were. No one trusted Snape, his being here was a mistake.

'I earned my way into this room,' Snape bit back. His eyes darting towards the assembled Weasleys to a plaque that read _Tourjous Pur._ 'Unlike you, I didn't get in through family or,' his gaze moved between Tonks and Remus, 'by taming a _pet.'_

'Severus,' Dumbledore's voice cut through the room before anyone could react. 'That's enough.'

His tone brooked no argument, daring him to continue as the pair stared at each other from across the room.

He really did hate them both.

The room remained quiet as Snape sat back with a sullen look and Dumbledore took his seat.

'I am sorry for the delay,' Albus said, a slight twinkle behind his half-moon glasses as he smiled at them all. 'I appeared to pick up a tail after my latest meeting with Minister Fudge. I believe Miss Skeeter smelled a scoop.'

His bullshit radar kicked up and, again, Remus fleetingly met his eyes. Dumbledore hadn't been dodging a reporter.

That was just a nice little lie to cover the fact that if he'd really come from another fruitless meeting with Fudge and had been followed after… then it'd probably been one of Fudge's cronies, or worse, a Death Eater.

'I will not keep you long,' Dumbledore said with a soft smile to the jumpier guests looking around the room, his eyes lingering on Molly a little longer than everyone else. 'I know everyone has things to prepare for with September only a week away. We will not all be able to meet like this with such ease until the Christmas holidays. So let us begin with your report Severus. What is Voldemort - ladies and gentlemen please, it is just a name.'

The shudder that had spread through most of the room earned a disappointed, yet still understanding look from the old man. James was less sympathetic.

'As I was saying,' Dumbledore said. 'Has Voldemort accepted your place amongst his followers again Severus?'

The bat-like man nodded slightly. 'It was difficult at first. However, it seems he has started to warm to me. I have managed to glean a little bit of information on his movements during the summer. Though nothing specific, I know he is still obsessed with the Department of Mysteries and how to get in there without giving himself away. He has so far been unsuccessful.'

Dumbledore looked satisfied with himself at that, like his opponent had made a chess move he'd expected and planned for.

Shame it was real people on the board and not just marble figures.

'We shall continue to watch the corridors and entrance of the Department of Mysteries all the same. Sturgis,' Dumbledore said as the thatch haired man looked up. 'Do you still have Alastor's cloak?'

'Yes Professor,' Sturgis said with a solemn nod.

'Wonderful,' Dumbledore said over entwined fingers. 'You will be on the guard duty rota for the next few days. If you will allow Mr. Podmore the use of your cloak a little longer Alastor?'

Moody nodded. 'Yeah, fine. Just don't lose it. Can never have enough invisibility cloaks.'

The meeting moved pretty quickly after that. Dumbledore taking reports from each of the people he'd put into home based missions- most of which were a waste of valuable resources.

Secret guard duties in the Ministry were important, but they were far too risky.

Which meant that Ministry workers like Arthur and the Aurors were getting the brunt of those missions. That way, if they were discovered, they could at least say they got lost while looking for an Unspeakable.

Sturgis on the other hand would be in trouble. Bloke had no business being in the Ministry after hours.

The rest of the meeting revolved around Bill Weasley telling them how things were going with bringing the goblins on side.

By the sounds of it, he was failing.

'They're just too sharp and suspicious to talk to me about a possible rise of You-Know-Who.' The tall lad huffed. 'The only thing I've managed to get out of them is stern looks and curt responses that as long as they're left alone with the gold, they don't care if he comes back.'

'Not the only thing you're getting from the bank though is it, Billy boy?' Tonks said with a smirk at the young man.

Bill grinned good-naturedly but didn't reply.

'Dora,' James said sharply. 'Time and place.'

'Yes boss,' Tonks said, with a blush.

He didn't miss the looks he was getting from around the room though. 'It'd be wise to lay off the goblins for a while don't you think Albus?'

'Oh yes,' Snape started. 'Let's all listen to _Captain_ Potter.'

'Was I talking to you?' James levelled a blank face on his childhood 'nemesis' and stared. 'Stick to intimidating children and let the people who do this for a living talk. _Professor.'_

'Because you're such a good little soldier aren't you Potter?' Snape replied. Cruel intellect sitting behind the dark eyes and hook nose.

'And whose soldier are you, Snape?' James asked quietly, the tips of his fingers tapping gently on the table. 'Do we need to worry if you're Voldemort or Dumbledore's bitch?'

'You-'

'Gentlemen,' Albus said loudly as Snape started in on a fresh stream of insults that never made it past his lips. 'Alastor, please.'

'Sorry Albus, just trying to maintain order.' He lifted his wand and Snape's face loosened enough for him to glower at James and Alastor in turn. 'I agree with Potter. The goblins are suspicious of us as it is. Best not to rile them up or they may just decide to mention us bothering them to the _wrong_ people.'

Dumbledore considered it for a while before turning to Bill, whose face had gone stony. He knew what an angry goblin could do after all. 'William, do your best to be discreet. I'm sure you have been perfectly careful, but perhaps you had best work on your relations with Miss Delacour for a while. Allies on the continent will be immensely useful when Voldemort does step out into the open. The more friends we have, the more help we may call on.'

Bill blushed but seemed satisfied with his new task and James nearly smirked.

Flirting with a French girl, who happened to be part-Veela, was certainly a mission any single young man wouldn't mind. Sirius would be spitting.

'James,' Dumbledore turned to him. A thousand questions twirling in James' mind as the old headmaster spoke, alert and ready to dodge questions he didn't like. 'When will Harry, Sirius, and the Greengrasses be back from the duelling tournament? I still need to speak with Sirius in regards to his syllabus for the upcoming term.'

'Anywhere in the next couple of days,' James answered vaguely, ignoring the scandalised look of Molly Weasley. 'The final matches were today according to Sirius.'

'You have been in regular contact?' Diggle asked, his high-pitched voice grating.

'Nightly,' James said shortly. 'Everything is secure.'

The meeting came to a close soon after that. A few more reports and a little back and forth on the possibility of a safe house and where it should be. Grimmauld Place being dismissed just as quickly as it had been suggested.

Dumbledore's eyes had turned straight to James at that point and the Potter lord could've sworn they had been knowing.

People didn't hang around for long after Dumbledore brought the meeting to a close. Snape disappearing as if he were smoke, quickly followed by Vance and Diggle. The Weasleys lingered as Molly spoke in hushed tones with Dumbledore. Moody even excused himself, as much as Moody excused anything he did.

'I'm going,' he said gruffly. 'I breathe in anymore of this Black air I'm going to need to drink more than I already do. Get me when the boy is back. We need words.'

And with that, the cantankerous old Auror was gone.

* * *

Moonlight illuminated the balcony off the south end of the Greengrass' suite.

It made for quite a romantic setting he supposed, him and Daphne sat on a wicker chair, her nestled into his side under a blanket as the moon bathed them in soft light.

Daphne certainly did look beautiful, the white light putting her tanned skin into a gloriously ethereal blend of colours. She always did look good with a tan.

Even the presence of Daphne's parents, kid sister, and Sirius in the other room didn't detract from it.

The blonde's fingers toyed with his own as they held hands. Breathing in satisfaction as they sat in comfortable silence, the island before them rested in muted calm.

There was the dull throb of sound coming from the horizon, where all the parties were taking place and the kids, who didn't have to go immediately back home, got to celebrate the results.

Harry and Daphne's winning trophies sat in their suitcases, their final duels almost a walk in the park in comparison to the rest. Seeing Daphne snatch victory from the very jaws of defeat… well, the poor Italian witch she'd matched up against had barely put up a fight. Daphne had been pissed.

A bit of reassuring that she'd definitely earned it by beating Gertson, and she'd calmed down.

Harry's finals opponent hadn't even bothered trying. The Danish boy had stepped up onto the platform and placed his wand in the centre. Withdrawing before the match had even started.

He should have been pissed too. As Sirius had said, he'd righted the wrong of the previous year, only for a hollow win to the overall tournament.

To be honest, Harry was just relieved it was over. That he hadn't had to duel … well it only improved the ending for him. He'd avoided using his magic as much as possible since the match where … since _then._

Voldemort's voice, or rather the voice in his head that sounded like Voldemort, had occasionally whispered vicious things to him but ever since he'd stop using his magic as much … it had died away.

So yeah, give him a win by default, his girlfriend safe, and a nice romantic last night under the moon with her next to him. The first really peaceful day of his summer.

And probably the last one he'd have until the war was over.

He did his best not to stare off into the direction of Britain. He'd much rather stay on this island, where it was warm and sunny and his girlfriend wore bikinis and openly cursed for her parents always watching them.

But no, back to rainy England in the morning. His dad would be ecstatic to be able to lock Harry up in Potter Manor until September. At least he'd be back at Hogwarts soon and away from his father's direct control.

Just under people's supervision on his father's orders. And Dumbledore's.

'Harry?' Daphne asked, her voice soft.

'Hm?' Harry said as he was pulled back to the moment. 'You alright Daph?'

She lifted her head from off his shoulder and smiled. 'I'm fine, are you okay? You were frowning.'

He forced a smile. 'Just thinking.'

'About?' She shifted so she was looking up at him, resting her body against his.

'Home,' he answered. 'Think we'll have time to see the rest of the guys before we go back to Hogwarts?'

'Maybe.' The blonde shook her head. 'You're nervous about your dad aren't you?'

'No,' Harry said, his fingers falling still. 'I probably won't even see him. Captain Potter, however …'

Daphne sighed, leaning against him. 'He's still your dad, Harry. He's just making sure you make it through to the end.'

Harry scoffed, shifting so Daphne would have to move off of him. 'Can we not talk about him please?'

His girlfriend frowned and sighed. 'We've been _not_ talking about him the entire time we've been here. And every time I've tried you do this! You either change the subject or lie and say you have something to do and leave. You're going to see him tomorrow, Harry. The last time you saw him you'd had a massive argument. Have you even thought about what you're going to say to him?'

'Hi Dad?' He answered her, removing his other arm from around her and going to stand. 'I'll handle it Daphne.'

The blonde stopped him from standing with a tug of his arm and a hard look. 'You're being too hard on him, Harry. He's just trying to keep you alive, why are you acting like he's not?'

'Daphne,' Harry said quietly. 'I don't tell you how to deal with your dad, so don't tell me how to deal with mine.'

'My arguments with my dad are about what clothes I want to wear and whether I've done my homework.' She removed her arm and glared at him. 'I can tell you if he was in your dad's place he'd be doing the same.'

Harry scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

Her glare intensified and he willed himself to stay calm- to remember that she was worried. That _everyone_ was worried and that they all meant well, even as annoyance and anger thrummed in his ears.

'We got a problem Harry?'

'Of course not _Mum,'_ he spat, staring back at her.

The blonde flinched and within seconds, Harry wished he could take his words back. He took a step forward, lips parted, an apology ready and willing on his tongue when Daphne spoke. Her voice sharp.

'Witty. Really clever,' she said, taking two steps back. Cold, blue eyes piercing him with guilt and flooding him with shame.

'Daphne, I'm sorr-'

'I know you are,' she said, cutting him off. Posture defiant and stubborn, eerily similar to a duelling stance.

'Look Harry, all I'm saying is that you need to talk to your dad about this okay? You're...' the blonde shook her head with a sigh. 'You're different. A-and I don't know if it's because of Voldemort and your dad or if it's just Voldemort but either way, you _need_ to talk to him.'

Blue eyes searched his own and the anger behind them morphed into something kinder. 'Please Harry... we're worried about you.'

He shook his head, looking away from her towards the horizon- towards England. An ache building behind his stinging eyes.

Harry swallowed thickly. 'I'll talk to him,' he lied.

* * *

 **A/N:** And boom, we're done!

Getting intense here aren't we? Thanks for all the lovely reviews and I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter.

I'd also like to make a special shout out to my girlfriend, the lovely Erica, for helping me gut this chapter and rework it into something that was a thousands times better.

And secondly to my new beta Hannah! Or as she's known on tumblr - phoenix-0verture. She got back to me sharpish with this chapter and I couldn't be more thankful.

Hopefully get the new chapter out to you soon.

In a bit.

Dave


	6. Over Troubled Water

Chapter Six

 **Over Troubled Water**

* * *

Harry's ragged breathing was cut through as he swore at the floor.

'Get up,' James said sharply. 'And actually try this time!'

Harry grumbled as he brought himself to his feet. The slightest shake of his legs the only sign he was tiring.

 _'Bombarda!'_ James said suddenly, snapping his wand out at the boy. _'Incendio!'_

The boy's eyes widened and he all but threw himself out of the way of the double attack, his trainers scraping against the stone floor of the basement.

Ice formed where Harry's next step would go with a point of James' wand, Harry pivoting artfully to avoid the hazard. Only to be slammed in the chest with a block of conjured rock, the rubble sprinkling his clothes as he was lifted off his feet and put on his back.

Harry groaned from the blow, his breathing ragged as James fought the urge to vanish the stone.

'You're slipping.'

The downed boy lifted his head to glare at him, the fire behind his son's eyes all too familiar. 'Did you just make a damn joke?'

'Joke?' James asked, his jaw set in a line as he cast spells to clear the area. 'What's a joke is that you somehow came back from a duelling tournament with a trophy, but you're hardly improved from when you left school six weeks ago. Are you even trying?'

Rising to his feet, using energy James would've liked to see when he was duelling, Harry stomped over to him. 'Yes _Captain_. I'm just not able to shrug off getting hit in the chest by a boulder on a regular basis.'

'Then dodge better kid,' James snapped back. 'We've got one more day until you're going back up north and I'd like us to at least make some progress. I should never have let you go to the island with just Sirius.'

'Yeah,' Harry all but hissed. 'Merlin forbid I actually not train for a second of the day.'

The retreating back of his son, who was cursing him out not so subtly under his breath, was set almost as hard as James' jaw.

'Where the hell do you think you're going?' James shouted after him.

'To my starting point,' Harry shot back, a vicious glare coming from over his shoulder. 'If that's alright with you?'

James took a deep breath and sent his own glare at the ceiling, closing his eyes briefly. With a mix of regret and resolve, he raised his arm and cursed his son in the back.

A familiar ache burned through his chest as Harry cried out. Hazel eyes darted towards the nearest window as he fought back the instinct to ask if he was okay.

It was for the best the Auror reminded himself. Voldemort wouldn't go easy on Harry. The piece of shit would kill his son in ten seconds flat.

And if Harry couldn't hold his own against James, then there was little chance of him beating Voldemort.

That was the purpose of him going hard on his son. It was important.

The boy turned on the spot with a faint hiss, dabbing at a cut that had reopened across his lip. A quick healing charm and Harry wobbled slightly before steadying his feet.

A pang in his chest made James hesitate. Swallowing hard, he levelled his wand at Harry. Across the room, Harry did the same and for a second it wasn't Harry glaring back at him but Lily.

He shook that thought aside, mentally preparing himself for the last duel of the day. Knowing he would have to go faster and harder and hating himself for it. Eyes a little above his son's head, he set his jaw.

'Alright,' James said loudly. 'One last go, and _try_ to hit me this time.'

James sent a quick variant of the traditional banishing hex towards Harry, who was already moving forward. The years as one of Gryffindor's Chasers showing as Harry ducked a compacted ball of dirt James fired at him like a cannon seconds later.

More dirt boulders flew towards him like a flurry of bullets from a Muggle machine gun, making Harry improvise fast.

His wand flew up, cutting one in half just as it would have collided with his face. The two halves crumbling as Harry peppered James' shield with spells, his word's only half spoke after his heightened training with Moody.

James ducked as one of his own dirt balls was sent firing back, the audible earthy thud of it colliding with the wall behind him a slight shock.

James snapped off a couple of metal coils at Harry's feet before firing another block of rock at him which would smack him in the chin. That'd teach him not to jump around like a damn acrobat all the time.

But Harry didn't jump, he blasted the coils and rock away with a swipe of his wand and kept advancing.

The huffing and puffing of exertion got louder and louder as the boy approached, his snapping off slicing bolts of magic at everything James sent his way. Rocks, conjured furniture and transfigured bits of rubble were all blasted apart or send careening away.

Wisps of smoke flew towards his wand arm, the tendrils looping around the elbow, before going opaque and strengthening, Harry was close enough that James could see the beads of sweat on the kid's forehead.

He slashed his wand, severing the smoky rope, and summoned a funnel of wind to throw Harry back.

When his feet left the ground, Harry's wand arm snapped out and another wisp of smoke wrapped and thickened around a pipe behind James. The man had to duck to avoid his head being wrapped in it.

Slicing the other rope, batting away the Severing charm Harry sent at him, and shocking his opponent with the move James summoned him closer by his shoes, hard.

Harry spun once in the air and landed heavily on the ground yet again, the thud of body hitting stone reverberating in James' ears.

The black haired boy groaned weakly, as James looked him over for any injuries. Guilt and regret stinging his eyes.

He had to resist the urge to rush forward when Harry tried to push himself up into a kneeling position, only to crumble to the floor in a pile. Harry rolled onto his back but didn't open his eyes. The cut he kept having to heal had opened again, his bottom lip stained red with fresh blood.

Pain swam over Harry's face, his hand clutching at his side, his wand left on the floor beside him. Harry groaned again and he felt the sound deep in his gut.

The next pang in his chest wasn't as easily ignored and James grimaced as he cleared the room for the night. He couldn't look at Harry anymore. If he focused on the sight of his son collapsed on the floor, he might stop training him as hard as he was. That couldn't happen, teenager or not Voldemort wasn't going to stop just because Harry was hurting. If anything, he'd make damn sure to prolong the pain.

James clenched his fist, tightening around his wand. He didn't want to do this but it was _necessary_. It wasn't like someone trying to kill Harry would let up, let Harry rest and recover from magical exhaustion.

'Dad?' Harry said, pain clear in his voice.

'Yeah?' James asked without turning round. He couldn't turn round.

'Are we done?' Harry sighed deeply, the sound of his wand scraping slightly over the stone like nails on a chalkboard.

'Yeah,' James said after a long moment. 'Go to bed.'

'Right,' Harry said, groaning as he limped into James' view, making his way to the stone steps that led up to the rest of the house.

 _Go see Remus, get the damage healed before you go to bed,_ James wanted to say. But he didn't need to. Harry wouldn't need telling and if the dirty looks Remus had been giving James were anything to go by he had best tend to his own cuts and bruises.

Thankfully, Harry would be back at school by the day after tomorrow and James would be out with his team. Remus wouldn't have to deal with how James was 'abusing' his son anymore.

Said son stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to look at him, a torn expression on his familiar face.

'What?'

He could see the words swimming around Harry's head, questions or snarky comments or maybe something else entirely.

'Nothing,' Harry said instead. A stony look on his bruised face. 'Night.'

James nodded, watching as Harry dragged himself up the rest of the steps and waited for the tell-tale sound of the wooden door as it snapped back into its' frame, before he allowed himself to collapse into a chair.

Something was definitely wrong. Harry had not been that sloppy before he'd gone to the island. Spending all that time without constant training couldn't have made him drop so badly.

Moody had been training him before they left and while Alastor's training hadn't been as intensive as the last five days … he'd clearly helped Harry win and Sirius had given James feedback after every one of Harry's duels.

The one with the Estonian boy had been a bit concerning but when James had pressed Sirius he'd only said that Harry had been ill immediately after.

And now he'd be going back to Hogwarts the day after tomorrow. Where he couldn't train. Where the ministry was meddling. Where Delores Umbridge would be trying to bend the school to her will. The stress must have gotten to him.

That vile fucking woman, how she wasn't locked up was beyond him. He'd almost feel sorry for Dumbledore if it weren't his own fault for not listening to his warnings. Fudge was too much of a coward and a money grubbing bastard to hear that Lucius Malfoy and his little friends were Death Eaters. Let alone accept that Voldemort was back. He was always going to react by trying to curtail him. And with Umbridge trying to get laws passed that made people like Remus' lives harder only to have most of them stomped down by Dumbledore …

The bitch must feel like the cat who got the canary, when she'd convinced Fudge that Dumbledore needed watching.

Amelia had looked about ready to punch a hole in her office wall when she'd told him about the Wizenmagot meeting that had sworn Umbridge in as Hogwarts' brand new 'High Inquisitor'.

Fitting title. The Spanish Inquisition could have learned a few things from her.

Made him glad he left the Potter seat in the control of Sirius or Nick, depending on which one of them went. He'd probably have cursed the simpering bitch into smithereens the first time she tried to convince him that werewolves were all dangerous creatures who needed to be locked up. Or killed.

And Harry was going to be put under her control, like all the other students. She'd already given a speech to the papers about teaching reforms she would be making at Hogwarts.

Being in Sirius' classroom would actually be rather amusing when the toad-like woman was doing her 'inquisition' or whatever the fuck she was going to try and do.

In the same breath though, it made him want to keep Harry at Potter Manor all the more. It'd be fully restored, portraits and all, by December. It'd almost be as safe as Hogwarts at that point, especially with both him and Harry here.

But no, Harry not showing up for school on the first would bring in too much attention. Especially given that there was even more of a media buzz around him than usual. Dumbledore had stopped short of naming names when it came to his source of Voldemort's return but it wasn't like Harry hadn't disappeared in a _very_ public place.

If no one had put two and two together then people were stupider than James thought.

James groaned, his body aching the longer he stayed in the old chair. It was late, Aurora was upstairs and if he was completely honest, he didn't think he could take much more today.

He'd have to try and coax some of that anger out of Harry again tomorrow. Earlier though. Wasn't like the stubborn boy would actually talk to him about what was wrong. That'd be too damn easy.

It wasn't even worth asking his son what was wrong.

* * *

The countryside started to deepen into woods and forests the further north the train went, an odd sort of comfort running over Harry at the sight of greenery.

Growing up with Cannock Chase, a reasonably large wood in Staffordshire, practically on his doorstep Harry had always felt an affinity to woodland. It was probably why he'd never been particularly intimidated by the Forbidden Forest. That and all the stories from his family about their escapades in it.

Shame he could count on the upcoming months at Hogwarts only adding to his stress and paranoia. He still couldn't shake the image of the boy he'd nearly killed at the tournament.

Every night his mind went back there, to the scene of a boy his age gagging and suffocating at his magic, watching the life drain away from his eyes and his body go limp in the wispy smoke of the spell.

He'd already taken to casting Silencing spells on his bedroom when he went to sleep. He was pretty sure he could do the same in the dorm. The other boys might not make much of it, Seamus might tease him about why he didn't want to be overheard, but only really Neville would cotton on.

And at least Neville wouldn't be as intrusive about it as Daphne would be. It was enough to make him glad he wasn't going to be sharing a bed with her now he was returning to Hogwarts.

He'd received the note in the Hogwarts supplies list for his fifth year. He would have to give up his private study and dormitory now that the tournament had ended.

He'd been back just shy of a week, and when he wasn't being put through the ringer by Captain Potter, Harry had managed to get a hold of the occasional newspaper.

Delores Umbridge, the bitch who seemed to live to make non-purebloods' lives harder. Especially people like Remus. The thought of her being in the same school as him … he'd have to keep an eye on his temper. He didn't want to know what he would do if he snapped at her. Not anymore, not after that last duel.

The conversation with his father this morning was actually the first time they'd agreed on something since he'd gotten to Potter Manor six weeks ago. It was difficult to believe it was only that long since he'd seen Volde-

Hissing laughter in his head broke him off and Harry shook his head sharply, the hand he'd surrendered to Daphne's grasp, jerking her attention to him.

'Harry?' Daphne asked. Confusion quickly morphing into worry as she looked him in the eyes and immediately, the peaceful conversation of the compartment stopped. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' Harry said with a forced smile, Voldemort's raspy laugh ringing in his head. 'You know when you drift off and then jerk awake? Just that, honest.'

Tracey raised an eyebrow, sharing an unsubtle look with Neville, the weight of what wasn't being said out loud hanging heavy in the space between them. Daphne's attention purely on him as she squeezed his fingers, the closeness of her making him feel trapped. He needed out, he needed to be away. His heart was racing, it felt like it would burst out of his chest before them. His lungs clawing their way out of his rib cage.

He couldn't breathe like this.

 _Just like that boy …_

'Harry …' Daphne said with her fingers touching where his pulse was.

As if the universe had seen his need for a distraction, the compartment door burst open and Hermione Granger stormed in, her face like thunder. 'Bloody typical!'

'Mione?' Harry latched onto the shout, his heart already starting to calm down as Hermione angrily perched on the spare seat they'd left for her, looking like a tiger whose tail had been pulled. 'What's up?'

'Why couldn't one of you be a prefect too?!' Hermione shouted, ignoring Harry and pointing at Daphne and Tracey in turn, like they had deeply offended her.

'Hermione,' Neville said reaching out to tap her on the arm, his hand shrinking back as the bushy haired girl all but snarled at him.

'Well?' Hermione asked, glaring hard as her head swivelled from one scared Slytherin to the other.

'I love it when you get fiery,' Tracey cooed as she sidled up to the enraged Gryffindor. 'It's scary as shit.'

'I will set you on fire,' Hermione snarled, making Tracey back off with her hands in the air. 'One of you must have been offered it over that vile Parkinson hag. They're just going to abuse the power as opposed to helping students and I could at least have lived with Malfoy if he was being kept in line by one of you. So explain.'

The four of them just sat in stunned silence. It wasn't that Hermione didn't occasionally blow up into a rage. But it very, very rarely ever got to this level of purest fury. It wasn't since she'd learned about how Remus was treated that Harry had seen Hermione lose her temper like she was now.

'Hermione,' Daphne said, her hand mercifully leaving Harry's for the first time since they'd sat down, gesturing for the irate girl to calm down with both palms. 'We're sorry but you know prefects are chosen by the Head of House. Snape was never going to choose one of us.'

Because Snape, in his infinite pettiness would never have given power to anyone who was friends with Harry Potter. Which had screwed any of the reasonable Slytherins out of prefect positions.

'Are the other prefects okay at least? What about the new Head Boy and Head Girl?' Neville offered with a desperate plea with his eyes for the others to move the conversation forward.

'Yeah isn't Cedric Head Boy this year?' Daphne asked.

Hermione nodded stiffly, her accusing glower simmering down to a frustrated glare. 'He is, and Jessica Polturn from Ravenclaw is Head Girl.'

The blonde to his side smiled at Hermione who was growing less angry as the moments passed. 'So who are the new prefects?'

'Ernie Macmillan and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff,' Neville chimed in. 'Hannah was telling me over summer when she visited the manor.'

Looks were sent Harry's way but it was Tracey who smirked at their friend's admission.

'Bet talking wasn't the only thing you two did over the summer eh Nev?' Tracey nudged the boy in the side.

Neville didn't answer the question, his face doing that for him. 'So who are the Ravenclaw prefects?'

'Padma Patil, you know Parvati's twin?' Hermione said, her tone still terse but less acidic. 'Anthony Goldstein. So it's mostly decent people. But still … you couldn't have tried harder?' She looked imploringly at the two Slytherin girls.

Said Slytherins smiled apologetically and Hermione's head dropped as she groaned into her hands.

'So …' Harry asked, desperate to keep the conversation going. 'Who's the other prefect from our house?'

'Yeah actually,' Neville said leaning forward in his seat. 'I was sure it would be one of us … I mean the other guys are awesome-'

'Even Ron?' Harry asked bemusedly. He'd never disliked the youngest Weasley boy, he just seemed a bit … well he didn't want to say lame but when your brothers were Fred and George Weasley … that was a lot of coolness to live up to. Maybe he was just biased. He'd been on the Quidditch team with them since second year, it made sense he knew them better.

'Oh yeah,' Neville said with a dismissive wave. 'He's pretty cool actually. The four of us would hang out a lot in the dorm last year. Good guys, but I didn't really see any of them getting the badge over you and me. But I'm guessing it's Dean?'

Harry had actually expected a badge if he was strictly honest. And he'd never been more relieved not to get one. That was the very last thing he needed this year. But he had thought it would be Neville.

Also the idea of Dean and Seamus with any kind of authority was laughable and he was probably being really unkind to Ron but he didn't seem the type to manage having to tell people off. He'd always seemed either too high strung around Harry or laid back to the point that he'd probably only give detentions to people who'd pissed him off personally.

Slytherins basically. It wasn't like the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin came out of nowhere after all.

'So go on Mione, who's the bloke prefect? Please tell me it's Dean. He'd be better than the Irish wannabe Casanova.' Tracey's grumble earning some chuckles from the others in the compartment. 'I'll curse him before you have to go on patrol with him. Keep him honest.'

The brainy girl went a bit pink as she coughed into her hand and a flicker of a smile crossed her face. 'I'm sure if I were to have a Seamus shaped problem it'd be solved quickly enough. But you can relax, it's actually Ron.'

 _Huh._

Harry shrugged and turned to look out onto the countryside. He'd feel snubbed for being passed over for Ron Weasley but again, he was just relieved it wasn't him.

'Ron?!' Daphne asked. 'McGonagall picked _Ronald Weasley_ over Harry or Neville?'

'Mhmm,' Hermione said with a nod. 'He actually surprised me with how serious he's taking the responsibility. He was asking as many questions as I was. Told Malfoy to shut his mouth when he was muttering something. That was just before Cedric called an end to the meeting. I'm actually meant to be meeting him for patrols soon … we want to get a feel for how we work together.'

'You're going to be so bored Hermione,' Daphne said with a sympathetic frown. 'I've heard him and the other boys talking about Quidditch more emphatically than Harry does. I'm not sure he'd know how to talk about anything else.'

'I don't know,' Hermione said, a frown matching Daphne's. 'We were talking a little bit before I left to come here. Asked how my summer was and was perfectly friendly. It might be okay, he's definitely matured more than Dean and Seamus. Professor McGonagall must have seen something we didn't.'

The other three shared incredulous looks but Harry was paying attention to Hermione's pinking cheeks and allowed himself a small smile. It would appear that Hermione wasn't just being her usually nice self in standing up for Ron's new maturity.

They passed through more of the countryside, the border between England and Scotland chugging past as Hermione glanced out the window.

'I should actually go to be honest,' Hermione said as she sighed deeply. 'We don't want to miss the first years.'

Harry went to stand, disentangling himself from Daphne, her arms leaving him like a snake being frightened away with fire. 'Hold on Hermione, I'll come with you.'

Raised eyebrows and curious looks stared up at him from all around. His chest tightened and he felt his throat close. 'What?'

'Nothing,' Hermione said, placating tone doing nothing more than annoy him, pausing in the doorway to look at him. 'But I will be going on a quick patrol. You'll have to come back through on your own. Past all those people, are you sure?'

His chest constricted as their gazes continued to bore into him. The eyes like those of the crowd back on the island, only instead of cheering on his violence and hurting another teenager … it was filled with confusion and worry. Which was about a million times worse somehow.

'Yeah, that's fine.' Harry picked his way past the legs of his friends. 'I'm just stretching my legs a bit before the madness. I leave it much later and I'll be stiff.'

He was waiting for joke to come, honestly he was. He'd practically set the damn thing up for one of them. He had expected Tracey wouldn't have been able to resist it. Instead there were shared glances, suspicion and uncertainty everywhere. Like they didn't think he couldn't manage alone. That nowhere was safe, not even the Hogwarts Express.

Or maybe they were worried that he'd attack someone.

'Well...' Hermione said, her mouth turning downwards. 'If you're sure.'

Harry widened his eyes to give Hermione one final insistence and waved back at the rest of the compartment. 'I'll be back soon,' he said before anyone tried to object or worse, offered to join in.

Stepping into the corridor outside was like stepping into a roaring cavern. With howling animals, or teenagers as they were actually called, on either side. Young and high squeaky voices shouting in animated excitement the closer they got to Hogwarts. All their fears and excitement bubbling up to the surface and charging the air with emotion.

Deeper and older voices adding more clamour but of a more raucous, boisterous noise. Sharing exploits of the summer, not knowing what was out there in the darkness that was smothering the countryside. He had felt it when he'd come back, the second he was back in the UK he'd felt a smog of negativity falling over the whole country.

But no one other than him seemed to notice, like the whole feeling was something he was imagining. It only appeared to be bothering him or people who were around him. Like the sheer lack of knowledge of the Death Eaters and Voldemort being in the shadows, which in truth they had been since last summer too, but now emboldened due to their master's return, was giving them blissful ignorance.

'So I didn't really get a chance to talk to you earlier Harry,' Hermione said, the awkwardness of the forced conversation as thick as pea soup. 'How was your summer?'

Harry shrugged, a frown burrowed into his face before he could marshal his expression into neutrality. 'It was alright, I'm sure Daphne told you everything important.'

The Estonian boy's pale face flashing in his vision.

'Yes,' Hermione said. 'She said you both won? And you got to walk around the island, I bet that was interesting.'

Harry nodded. 'It was nice yeah. How was your summer?'

'It was good,' Hermione said, a bright smile spreading across her face. It made Harry's lips lift at the corners ever so slightly. 'I got most of my homework done in the first week and then I spent the rest of the holidays with my parents in France. We had a wonderful time, I even got to meet up with Viktor. He made a special trip to Paris while I was there. His coach yelled at him something horrible. He said he'd gotten a Howler …' Hermione blushed but kept talking, easing into her story. A much less complicated thing to do than drag information out of Harry.

He really should try a little harder to be easier to talk to. At least with Hermione, she wasn't as bad as the others, who didn't seem able to actually stop watching him like he'd crack or lash out,

'Things still going well with Viktor then?' Harry asked as they picked their way to where he assumed Hermione had agreed to meet Ron. 'Making the distance work?'

Hermione nodded, her cheeks getting even redder. 'Mhmm, he's very busy though. It's not easy sometimes but he understands I've got school and the European Quidditch League started up again over the summer … which you probably know, oh don't look at me like that Harry, I had to explain that my boyfriend was a sport star to my dad. I had to read the whole history of Quidditch so I could answer his questions. He talked Viktor's ear off about rugby when he came to meet us. It was horrible.'

Harry, who hadn't been able to resist a smirk that Hermione Granger was telling _him_ about Quidditch leagues, morphed it into a softer smile and patted the girl gently on the shoulder. 'I get it Hermione, it's okay. I'm glad things are going well. You deserve it.'

They walked in an awkward silence, a shared nod and smile all either of them could manage when their eyes caught.

Each time their eyes met though, he could practically feel Hermione's repressing the need to ask him more in depth questions. Because Daphne will have only told her the nice stuff, possibly the relationship stuff but Remus hadn't dubbed Hermione the smartest girl in their year for nothing. She'd keep asking questions until she got the answers she wanted.

It was why her homework assignments were always sourcing so many different books. After years of checking each other's homework and just living in the same tower, he knew Hermione probably researched twice as much as Harry and Neville combined.

Half the story would be driving her nuts.

So as her mouth opened to ask the first of many _many_ questions that would make Harry want to crawl into a ball and scream … a compartment door opened and a tall boy with freckles and fiery red hair stepped out, the light off the top of the carriage reflecting against his prefect badge.

The laugh he'd been in the middle of faded off and a welcoming smile ran across Ron Weasley's face as he brought himself to a sudden stop, the bloke towering over Hermione as he looked down at her. 'Oh shit, sorry Hermione, nearly knocked you over, you alright?'

Colour bloomed in Hermione's face as she smiled back, more girlishly then he'd ever really seen her smile, and shook her head. 'It's okay Ron, I was just coming to meet you, do you want to see if we can find an empty compartment to go over the details?'

'Sounds brill. Bye guys, I'll see you at the feast.' He waved back at who, Harry could only assume, were Seamus, Dean, Lavender and the Patil twins as he shut the compartment door before gesturing down the carriage. 'Shall we?'

Harry raised an eyebrow but let it go. There were so many jokes he could make with that little back and forth but honestly, he couldn't be bothered.

Ron nodded and his eyes flit to Harry, who he appeared to have only just noticed, the confusion in his eyes clear as day as he gave him an amicable reverse nod. 'Alright Harry? Good summer?'

The Estonian boy's face swam in his mind again.

'Yeah, not bad. Yours?'

Ron hummed. 'Can't complain, not as good as last year's. But then how do you top the Quidditch World Cup?'

Harry chuckled and an ease settled over the width of his shoulders as he fell in step behind the newest Gryffindor prefects. 'You were there? I didn't see you.'

The ginger's ears went redder than his hair but his smile remained bright as anything. 'Yeah, Dad won some tickets in a Ministry sweepstake.' Ron slid his hands into his pockets. 'Though I gotta ask, why are you with Hermione? Not that it's not nice to see you but I thought it was just gonna be us two?'

Hermione's eyes darted to Harry and the need to ask him questions was clearly still present as she answered Ron. 'Oh it will be, Harry's just stretching his legs before he goes back. Right Harry?'

Strangely feeling like a third wheel all of a sudden, a curious Ron still eyeing him genially as Hermione seemed to be torn between demanding answers and begging him to go the hell away with her eyes.

Weird.

'Yeah, I get fidgety if I sit still for too long.' Harry shrugged and rubbed at his neck. 'So if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you crazy kids to your prefect duties.'

Hermione pursed her lips but Ron grinned appreciatively as he looked into a compartment window. 'Looks like this compartment might be empty.'

'Oh! Right,' Hermione said, a flicker of shock in her voice before she made to enter the compartment after the retreating back of Ron. She paused by Harry and placed a hand on his arm. He could feel the burn of her touch through his long sleeved top and fought the urge to whip his arm away. 'Are you okay Harry? Honestly.'

 _No_

'Yeah,' Harry lied. 'I'm alright, I'll be back with the others soon. You have fun with Ron, don't do anything I wouldn't do.' His smirk didn't reach his eyes but the dig he wouldn't have had to force earlier this year rattled his more respectably minded friend.

'Harry Potter,' Hermione chided. 'We're just talking about our prefect duties.'

'If that's what you're calling it,' Harry said, a practiced shrug forced to add to his joke. 'I'll leave you to it Mione. Have fun.'

And with that, he walked away before Hermione could stop him and was already by the door into the next carriage when Hermione huffed and the click of the compartment door shutting.

* * *

His walk had taken him much further than he'd expected.

He had to be near the end of the train now. It had been getting quieter and quieter as he'd gone but the noise and people made him need to push on. The constant movement added to the idea of going back through all of that left him feeling drained and tired, making it harder to focus.

Which only made the voice in his head louder.

Harry shook his head to dispel the voice and peered into the full, but mercifully quieter compartments. He just needed an empty one to sit in. Just for ten minutes before heading back. There was only so long he could be gone before Daphne would come looking for him and that would be humiliating.

Like vomiting in the middle of a packed stadium.

The bottom of his stomach fell out and Harry slammed his eyes shut as he crashed into the side of the train, his hand cradling him against the wall to keep himself from falling as his mind span.

 _You were going to kill that boy. You_ wanted _to kill him. Because you're a murderer._

No, he wasn't. He wouldn't have killed the boy. He _didn't_ kill the boy. They had both left that stadium alive.

 _But you have killed before ... Quirrell,_ the voice snapped. _Wormtail ... If you hadn't been stopped ..._

'No,' Harry moaned as he cradled his head. Forcing open his eyes, Harry could see the kids in the compartments looking around for the source of the crash.

Harry rushed forward, his search for a compartment that was empty all the more pressing. The watching eyes of the kids joining the baying crowd from the island.

Right at the end of the carriage Harry found an empty compartment and he flung himself into it. Crumbling down onto the soft seats and groaned out his relief. His hand ran down his face and he took of his glasses as his fingers hooked around the frame. Cradling his face in his hand, Harry let out shaky, shallow breaths.

He was _not_ a murderer. The only person who had ever died because of him was someone who was trying to kill him. When he was eleven. It had been self-defence and all he'd actually done was press his hands against the teacher's skin trying to push him off. While saving the philosopher's stone from Voldemort and preventing his rise.

It wasn't like he'd deliberately killed Quirrell. It had been self-defence.

Killing Wormtail was moot too. The traitorous bastard had helped take his mother from him. Peter Pettigrew had a target on his back, it was just a matter of who got to him first. Harry had just had the first shot since Sirius' failed attempt all those years ago.

It wasn't true, whatever the voice said, were lies. That was all.

He was okay and he wasn't a murderer. He wasn't.

'You're Harry Potter,' a soft lilting voice filled the silence.

His head snapped up, reeling- screaming at him to escape but it all came to a sudden stop when he looked at the source of the voice.

Sat on the seat across from him was a thin girl with light blonde hair, holding an upside down issue of the Quibbler. Wand tucked behind her ear, she was wearing blue jeans, a bright yellow cardigan, a dark red top and green shoes with drawn on snakes. And yet, his eyes were drawn to her face where a pair of psychedelic glasses perched on her nose. She looked like a disturbed owl.

Shockingly, almost bulbous in their intensity, blue eyes stared at him curiously. No sense of awe, fear or admiration was found in the weirdly dressed girl's face. Just simple honest to Merlin, sincerity.

His heart slowed down as they sat in silence, the girl's gaze never leaving him until finally Harry found his voice.

'I'm sorry,' he said, hating how breathless it sounded. Clearing his throat and sitting upright, Harry attempted a smile. 'Didn't mean to barge in on you, I thought the compartment was empty.'

The girl folded up her magazine and looked at him some more. A gentle smile lifted her lips. 'It's okay.'

He quirked an eyebrow at her and nodded. 'Yeah, I'm Harry Potter. Who are you?'

His rudeness was met with a dreamy smile. 'I'm Luna Lovegood.'

'Nice to meet you,' Harry said, his smile a touch more genuine. 'I like your outfit.'

'Thank you,' she said absently as she inclined her head. 'My friend Ginny said the same thing. You saved her from the Basilisk in our first year.'

The smell of Basilisk blood hit him and he grimaced. 'You're mates with Ginny Weasley?'

Luna nodded happily. 'Yeah, she's lovely. She had quite the crush on you you know?'

He eased back into the cushions, trying his best not to groan. Though he had to ask. 'Had?'

'Mhmm.' Luna nodded again, fingers playing idly with the chain round her neck. 'I assume she's over you now that she's dating Dean Thomas.'

He hadn't known that and a sense of relief washed over him. Vague memories of the redhead chasing after him year after year, flashed through his mind and something in him relaxed. The last thing he needed this year was an obsessed Ginny Weasley.

Harry stared out of the window, watching the darkening countryside roll past. He wanted to ask her why she was alone, in the back of the train but decided against it. Not only did he not care but at the moment, they were one in the same. He needed to say something though, the awkward silence was beginning to take over their small compartment. Made worse by the fact that he could see Luna's reflection on the window as she continued to stare at him.

Turning back towards the witch, he gave her a tight lipped smile.

Luna was still smiling at him, not blinking.

He focused on her fiddling hand and frowned, pointing at her necklace. 'Are those corks?'

The blonde looked down, nodding. Her fingers tapping them gently as she leant in, her tone becoming a whisper. 'It's for the Nargles.'

Harry blinked at her. He'd never heard of a Nargle before and he was kinda afraid to ask. Something told him that it would lead to more questions than answers because as nice as Luna seemed, he got a sense of weird from her.

There wasn't really anywhere for him to go from there, so he just nodded.

He got the impression that if he didn't say anything, Luna would go back to her magazine and leave him to it which made it all the more tempting to stay here.

But he was starting to recognise the approaching Scottish scenery whizzing by and he knew Daphne would come looking if he didn't show up soon.

A weight pulled on his insides as he stood and he smiled half-heartedly to Luna. Her eyes followed him to the door as she smiled absently. 'Thanks for letting me sit with you Luna. It was nice meeting you.'

The blonde inclined her head. 'It was nice to meet you too Harry Potter.'

And with that, Harry checked no one was coming past and made his way back to the compartment he had left behind.

Each step harder to take than the last.

* * *

The dull background noise around him faded to even more silence as Harry allowed the crowd to take him away from the Great Hall.

He hadn't thought it possible, that his mood could get worse but that little speech Umbridge had given had sunk it to new depths. A fierce burn of fury sitting in his belly as her words rolled over and over in his brain.

Pruning certain practices huh? Like treating people who were different to you with respect and human decency? The only thing that had kept him from outright hissing were the looks of shadowy fury in half of the staff's faces. Only Snape, Grubbly-Plank and Dumbledore had seemed capable of keeping neutral expressions.

Even Sirius, who was playing up to what was expected of him just a little, had ice for eyes as the woman tried to veil the fact that the Ministry was interfering with Hogwarts.

Maybe his dad had been right about Dumbledore going to the Minister being a mistake. Had Harry known that the foolish politician would react by sic his pet spy on them he would have thought twice about telling the Headmaster everything he did.

Fifth year was going to be far more difficult than he had already expected. O.W.L.s were going to be a breeze compared to trying not to snap at Umbridge.

She said she'd wanted to get to know them all after all. Insipidly patronising as it was said, it implied her intentions well enough. He had no doubt that she would try and interrogate anyone she deemed a threat to her precious Minister.

And he now had a decent idea on what exactly his dad, Alastor and Remus had been talking about when they'd told him to keep an eye out for her.

Because he could have sworn her eyes had zeroed in on him when she'd been talking about getting to know the students. Dumbledore _had_ kept his name out of things, that much was apparent according to heated conversations between James and the professor.

Though Harry's name only appearing in the papers as much as it usually did could have told them all that. If Rita and her ilk had known that Albus Dumbledore was ruining his standing on the word of their favourite target for gossip, Harry's face would have been on the front page every day just like Dumbledore's had been.

But that didn't mean some of the smarter Death Eaters hadn't found a way to implicate Harry into this and while Fudge had probably written it off mostly … he had been there when Harry had disappeared after being given the Triwizard Cup.

This was all so fucked up.

At least he had Quidditch this year. He'd have to check tomorrow to see who was captain. He hoped it was Angelina.

Passing through the portrait hole Harry was struck with relief as his eyes caught the familiar sights of the common room. A roaring fire already going as the crowds of students filtered towards the dorms, chattering away sleepily and excitedly as the boys and girls separated up their staircases.

Neville clapped Harry on the shoulder as they walked into the dorm. 'Welcome back to the dorm Harry.'

Harry smiled slightly as he took in the circular room. The five four poster beds, decked out in the Gryffindor colours, looked warm and soft. He made his way to one by the window, his trunk already confirming that even though he hadn't slept in his dorm bed much, it was still in the same space as usual.

'Are these bigger this year?' Harry asked as he eyed the mattress, looking over at the other boys' beds with a frown.

'Huh?' Dean said, looking away from where he was hanging the picture of his football team's roster for the year and smirked. 'Oh yeah, well if you'd spent any of your time in here last year, you'd have noticed we'd moved to double beds halfway through the year.'

Ignoring the dig at his private rooms, Harry kept measuring the bed. It was definitely bigger than the one he'd seen last year. 'Why?'

'Growth spurts mate,' Seamus said with a chuckle. 'We figured they grow on an average of our heights, with these two giants, it averages out in bigger beds. Brill ain't it?'

Seamus gestured at Ron and Dean, who were flipping him off good-naturedly.

He wanted to check out if there were any other differences to the room but he figured he could do that tomorrow. They didn't have classes until Monday, the weekend was there's.

But honestly he was too tired to care at the moment and he also flopped down on his wonderfully comfy bed. More comfortable than the bed he'd had last year somehow. Maybe it was just because he knew he wouldn't have to share and spread out?

He had never complained about sharing a bed with Daphne, though right now space from her clinginess was immensely welcome, but she was a wriggler and it'd taken him a while to get used to it.

The other four boys were chatting away lightly as Harry rubbed at his eyes and sighed contently.

Seamus chuckled and threw a pillow at him. 'Oh no you don't Potter, I was hoping you'd be back in the dorm with that Ministry woman here. I've got questions that I've been dying to ask you when your bird wasn't around.'

Harry peered up, the pillow caught deftly and thrown back into the waiting hands of the grinning Irishman. 'Do I even want to know?'

Neville shrugged as Ron and Dean shook their heads. A look of knowing on all three of their faces. Only Neville looking particularly wary.

'It's nothing bad Harry,' Seamus said, his tone placating. 'I just wanna ask some questions about last year. And your private rooms.'

He was curious now, perching up on his elbows Harry quirked an eyebrow. 'Alright Seamus, what about last year?'

'You shag Greengrass yet?' Seamus asked simply.

'Seamus!' Neville snapped, his face bright red.

'Mate, come on,' Dean said. Shaking his head at a similarly disapproving Ron.

'What?' Seamus retaliated as he gestured at Harry. 'The bloke had a private dormitory, a beautiful girlfriend who also slept there and no one to check up on them. I'd have been shagging every night! Hey!'

Pillows and other throwable objects were propelled towards the pervy git and Harry laughed as the other three boys came to Daphne's defence. Seamus dodged as many as he could before he just threw his arms up to defend his face, taking the hits.

'Alright, alright!' Seamus shouted. 'I'll let it go, like none of you are curious too! Besides, if you and your women had privacy like they had you'd have taken advantage of it too.'

Harry laughed some more at the grumpy look on his dormmate's face. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed this. Seamus was pervy as fuck but so were the rest of them and at least within the privacy of these walls they could all admit it.

What was said in the dorm, stayed in the dorm.

Besides, Seamus did have a point. He and Daphne had gotten up to all sorts in the private rooms Harry had had last year. Privacy and horny teenagers made for excellent circumstances for shagging. But he wasn't about to tell Seamus about his and Daphne's sex life.

The Irishman probably had more to tell anyway. Which Harry also didn't wanna know about. He did have a question about one thing though.

'How do you even know she was staying there?' Harry asked, keeping his amusement out of his voice. He didn't want Seamus knowing he wasn't offended and keep pressing. He'd have to ruin the mood and remind Seamus of the don't kiss and tell rule. Extensively.

'C'mon Harry,' Dean said with a grin. 'You might not have been coming to class last year but she still was. Girls talk. Then they talk to us.'

'Lavender?' Harry asked eyeing Seamus who had gone back to smirking.

Ron shook his head. 'Padma, she has Arithmancy with Daphne. She came down the night after her birthday with serious bedhead and the biggest grin on her face.'

Harry felt a little bit of warm crest his cheeks and coughed into his hand. 'Ah. And I'm guessing Tracey was there too?'

The boys shook their heads and looked over at Neville, whose face was getting redder by the minute as Ron, Seamus and Dean smirked at him.

'Nev? You didn't.' Harry actually felt a bit of irritation pang then.

'They were pressing me about Hannah!' Neville blurted out as he pointed wildly at them all. 'They'd already guessed it, I was just confirming. I didn't tell them anything.'

Harry scoffed. 'Yeah fine, just told this pervy lot that I had my girlfriend in my bed. Mate.'

'I'm sorry!' Neville replied as the others laughed. 'I cracked. Besides I've already apologised to Daphne, she forgave me.'

'Uh huh,' Harry said. A wicked smile crossing his lips and glancing at their eager audience. 'Well I haven't, you lads know what him and Hannah got up to behind the greenhouses?'

They nodded eagerly and Harry laughed as Neville threw a rolled up socks at him. Harry caught it deftly and threw it back, nailing Nev in the face.

'Shot Harry,' Ron said with a guffaw. 'But he didn't really tell us anything about you and Greengrass. Don't be too angry.'

Seamus snorted. 'Don't play all goody goody authority figure with us _Mr Prefect._ You told us all about what you and Padma got up to the night after the Yule Ball. Or rather what she got up _\- oof!'_

The ginger caught the rolled up ball of socks Neville had tossed at him from the bed and in one fluid motion flung them at Seamus' chest hard enough to wind him.

'How about you tell us about you and Lavender instead,' Dean said with a chuckle as he grabbed Seamus' arm that was already cocked back to return fire. 'For the thousandth time.'

Seamus shrugged out of the grasp and passed the socks back to Harry. 'Just because I got something to tell. He's still taking things slow with Ginny Harry, you know Ron's hot sister?'

'Watch it,' Ron growled as he went to climb into his bed. 'I will kick your head in.'

'Pfft,' Seamus replied with maturely. 'Hot is hot Weasley. You wanna kick someone's head in you can start with Dean, he's the one who's gonna _–oomph.'_

Another tossed object to Ron, who caught it perfectly and this time beaned Seamus in the skull with a … a football?

'Where'd the ball come from?' Harry asked, looking from Neville to Ron.

Seamus was currently groaning, clutching at his head as he lay on his bed muttering something intelligible.

'Well if he will talk like that about my girlfriend …' Dean trailed off with a wink at Ron. 'Nice catch by the way Ron, you're on fire mate.'

'Thanks,' Ron said, a little bashfully. 'I will kick your arse if you treat Ginny wrong though.'

'I know,' Dean said with a light chuckle. He checked Seamus' pulse and waved his hand in front of his eyes. The downed boy only mumbled. 'Consider this a warning.'

The four boys laughed and set to getting into bed in silence.

A whole minute of changing and going to brush their teeth passed before Dean started up conversation again.

'Those were some seriously good catches though mate. You'd make a great goalie,' the tall boy said with a pointed look at Harry. 'Wouldn't you say Harry?'

'Huh?' Harry said, turning from his bedside table, his alarm set in time for his morning run. Which no one could stop him from taking alone at long last. 'Oh, yeah.'

'Thanks,' Ron said, rubbing at the back of his neck. 'I was actually thinking of trying out for the team this year? Y'know with Wood gone … we need a Keeper and I always play in goal when we play at home, even Fred and George say I'm alright.'

He'd been friends with Ron's big brothers since he got on the team and quickly learned to trust their Beater judgement. And if Ron was anywhere near as good as the Twins, then team would be unstoppable.

'Sounds good.' Harry said sincerely. He made sure to look Ron in the eye as he spoke. 'I'm not sure who's captain but like Dumbledore said, try-outs should get sorted out tomorrow. Make sure to have a word with whoever it is, cus Dean was right. Those were some great catches.'

'Yeah?' Ron asked. His face, which had gone red around the ears and slightly forlorn in small silence that had followed, brightened. 'You think I'd have a shot?'

Dean and Neville nodded eagerly as Harry smiled. 'Yeah mate, I think you've got a shot.'

'Great! Thanks mate, I'll do that.'

Harry nodded stiffly as Ron beamed all the way under his covers. 'No problem.'

The three other teens shared looks and Harry felt a little bit of the weight he'd been carrying around all day lift again.

That night he slept well for the first time in weeks.

* * *

 **A/N:** I updated, I know, I'm shocked too.

First and foremost, thank you to the amazing Erica for her wonderful beta work, she helped me make Luna more Luna and neaten up the endless ramblings of my struggling brain.

I also want to apologise to those of you who've been waiting for this chapter for a year. I struggled immensely with this chapter and I couldn't get it out any sooner than I did due to multiple things in real life getting in the way. As well as getting back into another fandom since last August. I can't promise it won't be a long time until the next chapter either, I can only promise that I will never abandon this fic.

But I just want you to know I appreciate every fave and every follow as well as every review.

I hoped you enjoyed the chapter.

In a bit,

Dave


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